


Analecta

by hauntedd



Category: Roswell (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 59,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedd/pseuds/hauntedd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Analecta - a collection of short stories.</p><p>Two outsiders find they have more in common than they believe. Starts at the beginning of season two and describes Michael and Tess' relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These characters are property of 20th Century Fox/Melinda Metz. The lyrics in part 1 are to "Your Cloud" by Tori Amos.

_do you think_  
just like that  
you can divide  
this you as yours  
me as mine to

before we were us

 

She sighed and forced back her tears as the scene played over and over in her head. She'd been heading down to the Crashdown to hang out with her friends if you could even call them that. 

It started out like any other meeting. Max and Liz were engaged in their usual dalliance, oblivious to the rest of them. However, something was different this time - it was like last May, when she had first come to town. They sat close together, limbs intertwined, eyes fixed toward one another. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. She could sense it, they all could, they were going to date in earnest and rush toward romance. 

Tess realized then that he was looking at Liz the way that he was supposed to be looking at her. And she was where Liz should be, on the outside of their little coterie. 

They had all gone out of their way to exclude her ever since she came to town. Granted, she had come to town on a bad note, she got that now. But it was September now, a whole five months had passed. Certainly she had served her penance - hadn't she? 

Apparently not. She was still on the outside looking in, a stark contrast to what Nasedo had promised when they had started their sojourn in search of the other members of the royal four. He had promised her that they would all accept her unconditionally, that Max would love her as Zan had and their lives before her coming would be insignificant. 

And yet, she was the insignificant one. Max had illustrated that point very clearly this evening. When Maria had ripped into her, he had failed to come to her defense. 

In fact - neither had Isabel. The two of them were scared of her and what she represented. She was the unfamiliar - the alien. No one cared that she had feeling too, that she hadn't ever asked for destiny. They were all quick to judge, that since Nasedo had told her to integrate herself, to love Max, that she actually wanted it. 

She didn't. But at the same time she couldn't deny it The whole concept of destiny had been ingrained in her since childhood. And it left her here, at the impasse - she was too scared to denounce it, to move on from her past and those in it, but at the same time she couldn't accept it, because they refused to accept her. 

"Damnit!" She cursed as she felt the soft sting of fresh tears at the back of her eyes. She didn't want to cry, not again. She had too many tears in the past five months, more than they deserved. 

All she had wanted was to be accepted, was that too much to ask? 

And instead, she had to settle for dismissals, heartbreak and the occasional forced greeting. If this was destiny, she sure as hell wanted no part in it. 

"Why?" She screamed, staring up at the v constellation, the stars shining down at her. The five of them twinkling in the navy sky, mocking her. She hated feeling like this, like her entire existence had been a mistake. 

"Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't... if they hadn't recreated me," she choked out, the tears falling hard and fast now against her cheeks. It was the one thing she had thought, but not acknowledged verbally, ever since she got here. But now the words were sputtering out, acrid on her tongue. 

Michael watched from the shadows as she sat down on the curb, her body hunched over as her sobs carried in the wind. He'd come upon her accidentally, having left the Crashdown because of Maria's persistence. There was a reason he didn't want to get back together with her, well, more than one, to be precise - and despite her claims, none of them have to do with his DNA. 

It was then that he heard it, the choked hypothesis spilling from her lips. Did she actually think so little of herself that she could wish herself out of existence? It was completely strange - she seemed, at least in his limited time around her, to be stronger than that. 

She always was so determined, so self-assured, so brazen. She didn't seem like the type, she was Tess. And, although he had admittedly kept his distance from her, he could not help but notice her. 

She was an enigma, not the one dimensional person that Maria and the rest viewed her as, that much he did understand. But, at the same time, he was now seeing just how deep her intricacies went. 

She had always been alien to him, even more alien than he or the others were. He understood that they did not belong, which was more than he could say for Max or Isabel, but at the same time... she was different. She got their status far better than he ever could, in a conceptual sense, especially with Nasedo always there to reinforce it. 

In that way, he was envious of her. But seeing her now, sad and alone, made him realize that her existence was a lonely one. Although he had a shitty father, he at least had Max and Isabel through it all. 

Frowning, he scratched at his eyebrow as her body continued to be wracked with sobs - he needed to do something. He just wasn't sure what. 

Finally, without really contemplating it, he began walking toward her. He was not great at dealing with crying girls, but he figured it was better than nothing - she definitely looked like she could use someone right now. 

"Hey," he greeted as he came closer, before sitting on the curb next to her. He wasn't sure if she wanted company, but he didn't want to leave her alone either. Especially not now that he saw just how vulnerable she was. 

"What do you want?" she snapped, tired and sad. It wasn't that she didn't like Michael, she did, she even found his multifaceted personality something that she could relate to, however she didn't want anyone to see her like this. Especially Michael. He was the only one that showed her even a modicum of respect, and that was now going to be shot to hell. He didn't seem like the type to take well to tears. 

"Are you ok?" he asked, half wondering if this was what he was supposed to be doing. He'd only dealt with Isabel when she was like this once or twice. And he normally was the cause of Maria's tears, so he did not have that much experience with this sort of thing. 

She bit her lip as she met his gaze. Her first instinct was to shout at him and brush him off, because clearly the word yes was not a valid option. But considering that this was Michael, and he normally did not show concern for anyone, especially not her, she reconsidered. After all, he wasn't the problem, not really. He at least acknowledged her, that was more than most. 

"No." she whispered, the word foreign to her. Tess didn't admit her feelings, they were a weakness, one that she hoped to avoid. But there was something about his concern and her desire to be more human that made her soften. She wanted to be like the others, she wanted to feel freely, to embrace more of her human genetics. She was just afraid. 

Michael nodded slightly in understanding, but said nothing, letting her response sink in. He hadn't expected this, for her to be honest with him, for her to trust him with this admission - that she too was vulnerable. His surprise, he knew, was a combination of his belief that Tess acted the same way he did with her emotions and the others, especially Maria's and Max's, assertions that everything she said was a lie. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked finally, realizing that he had been quiet for too long. Her aqua eyes were now fixed on him, awaiting for him to respond to her admission. 

"I... no, not right now. I'm sorry, it's just... it's just hard," she stammered, trying to find a way to not make this about Max Evans. She knew now, sitting here with Michael under the night sky that she had to give up the idea of happily ever after. 

After all, if all those fairytales taught her anything it was that happily ever after only existed when the story was left unfinished. There never is an explanation of the elusive happily ever after, it just existed. 

And yet, she'd been gunning for it since she was old enough to grasp the concept. She put her heart and soul into the idea of it, using Max Evans as her prince charming. And she was finding out, the hard way, that perhaps she had misjudged him somewhere along the way. She needed to give him up, to surrender her hopes of being with him. 

It was just going to be hard. But it would be worth it. 

"Is there anything I can do?" he prodded, hoping that she would elaborate on her words. He was curious now, she intrigued him. And not just because he found her attractive. The whole idea of her was interesting, as was her life and everything about her. 

"About this? No." She answered truthfully and cursed silently as she saw his face fall. Yes, it was true, he couldn't help her get over Max, that was on her, but it sounded so mean. She sighed and brushed a stray curl out of her face. "All I need for you to do is try and be my friend, Michael. I don't really have any of those," she added softly, hoping that she hadn't overstepped whatever relationship they had. But he had asked her what he could do, and that was it. 

Michael opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. She was right - she didn't really have any friends. She had seven people whom chance had linked with her, but none of them had really extended themselves. Isabel had, at the beginning, but now that she knew the truth, she had grown to fear Tess, preferring instead to spend time with Alex, Maria and Liz. The rest of them had tolerated her with varying levels of success, but none of them had bothered to get to know her. 

Mentally cursing, the guilt rose within him. He of all people should have tried harder, she had all the answers he so desperately wanted, and he knew exactly what it was like to be treated the way she had been. 

He should have done better. And she was giving him a second chance. 

"I can do that." He answered, and took her hand in his, giving it a small squeeze. He felt a little bit better when she looked up at him with a genuine smile on her face. She was so appreciative of something so small, it was different from Maria, who demanded things that he couldn't always give, and he kind of liked it. 

"Well it's late. Do you want me to take you home?" he asked, hoping that she would agree. Although she looked a lot better than she had before, he still did not want to leave her alone. 

Tess smiled at him, it was nice to know that Michael was going to try. It wasn't lip service either, he wasn't the type to say something without actually doing it. "I'd like that," she said and dusted herself off. 

She might not be getting the prince charming, but she now had a friend and that was something. That was what she thought to herself as they made their way back, the stars shining down on them as they walked home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are to Frozen by Tegan & Sara

_there's not much said that I don't know  
the difference between frozen hands and feet  
you come right out and you ask me  
nobody ever asks me_

“Hey!” Michael greeted as he slid into the booth across from her. He’d been thinking a lot about what Tess had asked of him last week, but hadn’t really found time to spend with her until now. Mr. Parker had been giving him double shifts to cover for Jose, who was visiting family in Arizona. Michael couldn’t complain, he needed the money after all, but at the same time he felt a little guilty for not being able to spend time with Tess. 

“Hey yourself,” Tess said as she looked up from the menu and met him with a small smile. She had been looking for something different to order, but so far had found nothing else that she really wanted. The Crashdown was weird that way - everyone had their one meal that they ate day in, day out. She was determined not to be like that. 

“I thought uh, we’d do something today,” Michael stalled, unsure if she’d be up for lunch now that she had been studying the menu so intently. 

“You don’t have to work?” Tess asked, trying not to get her hopes up. She knew that Michael was not the type to lie, he had worked a lot the past week. But it was the last week before school was supposed to start and she wanted to have some fun this summer, since she had basically spent it all watching soap operas and going to movies by herself. 

“Nah, Mr. P gave me the day off. Plus Maria’s working and I’d rather not be around.” Michael admitted, scratching at his eyebrow as he looked at her, hoping that she would get the hint. 

“She still trying to get back together with you?” Tess asked, even though she knew the answer. It was painfully obvious to everyone in Roswell that Maria Deluca was desperate to have Michael back. Tess felt bad for her, she knew what it was like to have the guy you thought you wanted not want you at all. But, the fact that Maria was a bitch to her kind of took away from her sympathy. 

“Yeah, it sucks,” Michael supplied and got up from the booth, hoping that she would follow his example. He knew that Maria would start her shift soon, and that meant that he needed to leave now, or he’d play round 47 of what went wrong. 

He couldn’t even hang out with Max anymore without that coming up, he and Maria had “bonded” over this. And it had only gotten worse since Liz got back, Max’s insistant proclamations that he “could have this too if you talked to Maria,” were annoying and self absorbed. 

Max, like Maria, liked to think that everything would be perfect again in their group if he got with Maria. It wasn’t that simple. He never really even was with Maria in the first place. It was just convenient, and he was sick of arguing with her. And she was cute, when she shut her mouth. 

“Most guys would love to have a woman fawning all over them.” Tess teased as she shut the menu and got up from her seat, glad that she didn’t have to stare at the menu any longer. Plus, the prospect of eating alone really wasn’t one that she was all that excited about. She was self-confident, sure, but she had never really lived in a small town before, and she was afraid they would talk. 

“I’m not most guys, Harding. Let’s go.” Michael smirked and led her out of the café and toward his motorcycle. He wondered, idly, what she would think about riding the bike, but it was a nice day and he wanted to take it out before it got to be too windy. 

“Ok,” she shrugged and followed him out to where he was standing, his left arm draped over the bike. She gave him a small smile, she knew that this was his baby, and he didn’t take everyone out on it. 

“You’re not going to say anything about the ride?” Michael asked as he straddled the motorcycle, inching up so that she could seat herself on it. 

“No.... not everyone is afraid of motorcycles,” Tess answered, taking the proffered helmet from Michael. 

“Yeah, but all chicks dig them,” he added, watching as Tess pursed her lips together, contemplating if she was going to smack him. He didn’t know the limits with her, but he knew that if he said that to Maria, she’d smack him. 

“Some do,” she agreed, brushing a stray curl out of her face and pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She was glad that she had grown her hair longer, she realized now. Even if Nasedo hated it, it was much easier to deal with than the shorter, tighter curls that he preferred and thought were more attractive. It may have been, if it were the 1950s. But this was the year 2000! And she really doubted many boys had a Shirley Temple fetish. 

“And which some are those?” Michael questioned as he started the bike, feeling her hands wrap tighter around his waist. He groaned inwardly as he felt her breasts push against his back, trying to control his body’s reaction. She was an attractive girl, but they were barely even friends, and he’d ruin that if he got a little too excited. 

“You think I’m going to betray the sisterhood for you?” She responded with a question, deciding not to tell him that her last pseudo-boyfriend rode a motorcycle, and that was the reason she even started dating him. Not only was that, as Nasedo would say, inappropriate, but it really didn’t matter. 

“Whatever,” Michael shot back and started the bike, speeding off toward their destination. He frowned as he felt her nails dig into his chest, for someone who wasn’t afraid of motorcycles, she seemed to be holding on awfully tight. Then again, he didn’t mind... it felt really good. He hadn’t felt a woman’s arms around him like this in a long time, and even then it was Maria, whose every move with him seemed forced. Maria, he sighed in relief as the tightness in his pants lessened. It was funny how things changed. 

Tess felt the bike slow and she looked around at her surroundings as she dismounted the bike. She hadn’t really spent that much time in this area of town, but it was basically a strip mall, with a restaurant attached. “Um, where are we going?” 

“Lunch.” Michael shrugged and walked ahead of her, heading off toward the restaurant. 

“At... Cheese Encounters? What, giving up one alien themed restaurant for another?” Tess asked as she registered the name of the restaurant. Granted, it wasn’t the Crashdown, but at the same time it was still alien themed. Nasedo would be less than thrilled. 

“When in Rome...” 

“I guess... Nasedo would be so pissed if he knew I was here. Like the Crashdown was different, it’s convenient... but this... he would find repulsive,” she shrugged and opened the door to the restaurant, leading him inside. She couldn’t help but admit that it did feel good to do something that Nasedo disapproved of, she hadn’t really done that since the boyfriend. 

“Well he doesn’t have to know, does he?” Michael asked as he slid into the booth, giving a slight smile to the waitress who handed him a waitress. He realized how bad this conversation sounded, but his question was a legitimate one. 

“And yet he always finds out,” Tess supplied with a shrug and shut the menu, already sure what she wanted. She knew her pizza well, she didn’t need to scrutinize every type. 

Michael frowned at the way that Tess shifted in her seat, noticing that she was getting uncomfortable. 

“So, got any idea what you want to order?” he asked, hoping that it would change the subject. It was getting too close to uncomfortable territory. Because if she started to talk about Nasedo, then Hank would come out and he was pretty sure she felt the way he did. Some things were just better off left unsaid. 

“I’m a cheese pizza kind of girl,” she answered and reached back to play with her hair, freeing it from the ponytail. She didn’t like to keep it up for very long, it just felt awkward. She was glad that he had changed the subject though, she wasn’t ready to talk about her life with Nasedo. He seemed to get it, though, and she wondered idly if that had to do with his upbringing or just because he was more perceptive than Max, who needed everything spelled out for him. 

“Oh,” he frowned, hoping to get what he wanted for once. Maria always ordered Hawaiian pizza, and he hated it. He had been looking forward to peppers on his pizza, but apparently Tess didn’t share his love for toppings. 

“Michael, if you want something else, we can get half and half,” Tess stated, brushing her hair off her face. 

“They do that?” 

“Um... yeah?” Tess answered, confused why Michael hadn’t already known that. He had been here before, that she was sure of, so it was strange that he didn’t know about Pizza toppings on only half of a pizza. 

“Really, Maria never let me you know... do that,” Michael muttered as he scratched his eyebrow. He figured it was easier to just say Maria instead of Hank and Maria. Tess got that Maria could be a bit of a reformist at times, she didn’t need to hear about Hank - not yet anyway. 

“She seems like she’s pretty controlling and demanding,” Tess prodded, hoping that he would finally say something about their relationship, or lack there of. All she knew was from observing and a few comments that were said in her presence. She knew that he hadn’t been happy, but Maria was, probably because Michael did what she wanted most of the time. 

“Yeah.” 

“So what kind of pizza is this, anyway?” Tess asked, realizing that she wasn’t going to get anything else out of him. She was realizing, rather quickly, that “Stonewall Guerin” wasn’t just a rumor or hyperbole. He had his secrets, and she respected that. She wasn’t going to prod. 

“Pizza.” Michael dead panned, wondering what she was getting at. There was only one type of pizza as far as he was concerned, and it went by the word “pizza”. 

“Well, I mean like is it New York style or Chicago style?” 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Well, New York style is thinner and Chicago is deep dish,” Tess explained, wondering how anyone could be sixteen years old and not know the difference in pizza styles. Then again, this was her favorite food and she kind of got protective about it. 

“It’s probably the first one,” Michael answered, trying to reconstruct the pizza in his head. 

“Ok,” Tess breathed, wondering what they were going to talk about now. Both of them had said, without saying it, that they didn’t want to talk about their upbringing or significant others. And she wasn’t going to bring up the alien thing first. She wanted this to be about more than that. 

“Is that something you picked up on living... wherever you were before?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Wait, where did you live anyway? I don’t think anyone has ever bothered to ask.” Michael asked, realizing that no one had ever bothered to ask her where she had been before Roswell. All of them had, to varying degrees, avoided her after their destinies had been revealed. 

“Um, yeah,” Tess agreed awkwardly, trying not to make a big deal about her treatment before this. Michael was at least making an effort now, and she was sure they’d revisit this later. 

“Well we moved around a lot. One of the last places I lived was Northern Virginia, but Nasedo was uncomfortable with being so close to DC, so that didn’t last long, even though I loved it there. I don’t remember much before Massachusetts, when I was like 8. It was definitely cold up there, but I loved it... when I was allowed outside to play.” 

Tess frowned for a moment, remembering the arguments she would have with Nasedo when she was younger about having friends. She didn’t quite get it then, she was young, but Nasedo failed to understand that. So, instead of having first sleep overs and birthday parties, like she had wanted, she had to practice. And one of her lessons was mindwarping her friends into hating her. Of course she hadn’t realized it at the time, and Nasedo had used the lesson to teach her that she was better than humans. She didn’t like to talk about it much. 

“Then we moved closer to you guys, to Texas for a little bit, but Nasedo hated it, so then up to Chicago, that was right before Virginia, then Arizona and finally Roswell.” She finished, hoping that Michael hadn’t caught the frown on her face. It was nice that he was interested, but he was also bringing up memories she had tried to forget. 

“What tipped you off?” Michael asked, curious to see if his fire in the desert had actually had an effect on anything. 

“Nasedo saw a tabloid in DC, when we were up there for the weekend, about what Max did. So, we stayed for a little bit, until Nasedo got paranoid and we moved to Arizona. Turns out, though, he was right that time, because he saw that sign in the desert that I guess you made... and well, the rest is history.” 

Michael opened his mouth to say something, but shut it when he caught Tess’ eye. She was indicating that the waitress was coming back. He liked that about her, she understood subtlety. 

“Are you guys ready to order?” 

Tess smiled at the waitress, she seemed nice enough. Probably back from college, given that she looked a little older than they did. “Yeah, We’ll have a half cheese... half...” 

“...Peppers and sausage.” 

“Pizza... and I’ll have a cherry coke with lime if you have it,” Tess finished, trying not to make a face at Michael’s order. She didn’t understand how people could ruin food like that. 

“What size pizza?” 

“Large,” Michael answered, figuring they could take the leftovers home. He didn’t feel like cooking later and she didn’t really seem like she cooked very often. 

“And sir, what did you want to drink?” 

“Coke.” 

“Ok great, I’ll be back with your drinks.” 

“What about you, how did you meet up with Max and Isabel?” Tess asked when the waitress left. She was sick of talking about herself, there was something invasive about laying herself bare, even if it was to one of her own. 

“They were just there one day... at school. I felt you know, drawn to them.” Michael answered, wondering what she was getting at, exactly. It had been pretty straightforward, they had recognized one another immediately. Isabel had run over and given him a hug - and half of her lunch. She still looked out for him, even now. But he just couldn’t see her as anything more than an overprotective sister. 

He looked up as the waitress came back and set down the drinks, and he nodded his head slightly to acknowledge her. 

“Oh,” Tess mouthed, then smirked as she watched him scratch his eyebrow again. She found it endearing that he did that, it was something so distinctly Michael. “So what did you do this summer?” 

“Not much, I wanted to you know, prepare, but Max, he disagreed.” Michael answered, deciding not to tell Tess exactly what Max had said She didn’t need to know that her prince charming had basically abdicated the throne at least twenty times this summer. 

“Oh, is that something you still want?” 

“Yeah, but I mean... Nasedo’s in Washington,” Michael answered, wondering what she was implying. Yeah, he’d like to develop his powers more, but it kind of meant nothing when their protector was busy getting the special unit closed. 

“Well, I could, you know, help you,” Tess breathed, trying to broach the subject carefully. Although she knew that Michael was more willing to embrace his alien side than the others, she didn’t want to push. That had not exactly gone over well last spring, and she wasn’t all that interested in making the same mistake again. 

“Shit, you’d do that?” Michael scratched his eyebrow to contain his excitement. He was glad that she had the ability to teach him, and he wondered why he hadn’t asked her earlier. He was sure that part of it had to do with his fear of what he was capable of - if he was honest with himself, he still thought he was at fault for Pierce. 

“Yeah.” 

“When could you start?” Michael asked, eager to take her up on her offer. Especially after Pierce, he wanted to have a better grasp on his powers, that was a mistake he didn’t want to make twice. 

“This afternoon?” Tess shrugged, it wasn’t like she had anything else to do. Her plans were basically non existent. She needed to buy some clothes before school started, but that could wait. 

“Ok.” 

Tess opened her mouth to say something, but as soon as she did, she shut it because the waitress came over and dropped their pizza off in front of them. It smelled amazing. She reached for a piece and took a bite, it was really good. “This is really good, Michael,” she stated and watched as he relaxed. It was cute, he had been concerned that she wouldn’t like it. 

“I know,” Michael smirked and took his own piece of pizza from the pie and bit into it. He loved this place, it was better than any chain pizza joint in Roswell. And it was even better when he got the toppings he wanted. 

They ate in comfortable silence and paid the bill, both of them enjoying their food and the company. Michael, however, was growing anxious to start training. It was what he imagined Christmas Morning was like, hoping for something so bad and then getting it. It was a strange feeling in him, as Hank hadn’t really bothered with Santa or presents. 

“So do you want to go to my place and you know, give me a lesson?” he asked, hoping that she would say yes. He wanted to spend more time with her too, but right now he was more focused on actually doing something for once. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Tess smiled, glad that this wasn’t over yet. Without another word, she hopped on the bike after him. She liked this, what they were doing, and the reassurance that she did have something for her in Roswell. It was nice. 

“This is your place?” she asked as she stepped inside. It was a decent size for someone who worked behind the grille at the Crashdown. She wondered if the Evans helped him out at all, they must have to. She knew enough about real estate from moving around so much that this apartment was not cheap. 

“Yep.” 

“You know, you’re really clean for a single guy living alone.” 

“Powers.” 

“Ah.” 

“So, how does this work exactly?” Michael asked, wondering if this was like those movies where he was the apprentice and she was the master. Not that he wouldn’t mind that, but he did have a reputation to maintain. 

“Well... do you have any rocks?” Tess drawled, deciding that the best avenue to pursue would be to go with his aggressive powers. He was more than likely concerned about their strength, given that he had attacked Pierce. While she knew it wasn’t his fault, he probably didn’t agree with that assessment. He seemed to have a lot of guilt, otherwise he would have been around more this summer. 

“Tess, this is the desert, of course there are rocks.” Michael deadpanned, and smirked when he saw her eyes narrow at him in annoyance. He liked when she was pissed off, it was kind of hot. Michael frowned as he registered his last thought. He was not attracted to Tess Harding, that was for sure. It was worthless anyway, she was hung up on destiny. 

“Well then, Sergeant Smartass, why don’t you get some?” 

“Cute, Harding,” Michael muttered as he headed to the back porch. 

Tess smirked as she took in the appearance of his place. It was definitely something that she would have pictured him owning, with the Metallica posters on the walls and the demure browns of the pillows. But, it still had a touch of Isabel, from the photographs to the plaid blanket. She liked it - it definitely looked lived in, which was more than she could say for the places she lived, but it still seemed very Michael. 

“So you going to tell me what the rocks are for?” Michael asked as he laid them out on the table. When she had said practice, he hadn’t thought that this was what she meant. 

“You’re going to blast them.” Tess shrugged and lined them all up in a row. There were five of them, it was a good number. Just enough for him to use his abilities without tiring himself out. She had seen, first hand, how inexperienced they all were, and he needed to build up stamina. 

“Uhh... in my house?” Michael asked as he mentally calculated the damage this would cause. He didn’t like the sound of Tess’ plan. Not only would the neighbors hear, but he didn’t have the money to pay for repairs. 

“Yeah,” Tess breathed and watched as he scowled. He was nervous. “Look, I promise, you’re not going to do anything. And if you do, you can always... fix it.” 

“Tess, I don’t know if we’ve met. I’m not good at this.” Michael retorted as he shifted slightly in place. He knew that she meant well, it just wasn’t the best idea for him to be doing this in his home, at least not at first. 

“Well this is how you get better!” she huffed and brushed the stray piece of hair off her face. Realizing that screaming at him was not going to help, she gave him a small smile and said, “Look Michael, I know you can do this.” 

Michael opened his mouth to disagree with her when he saw the faith that she had in his abilities shining back at him. It was so rare that he got a look like that, not even Max or Isabel really showed that much trust in his actions. And he didn’t want to disappoint her. 

“Ok, what do I do?” he asked, and couldn’t help but smile when she jumped up and down in excitement. Obviously, his trust in her meant as much to Tess as her trust in him meant to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are to "taxi ride" by tori amos

_she smiles_  
way too much but  
i'm glad you're  
on my side, sure  
i'm glad you're on  
my side still 

“Michael is in jail.” 

The four words ran through her head over and over again. Tess had forgotten who broke the news now, or even what was said. All she could do was think about what that meant. From the little he had said about his history with Hank, along with the guilt complex, Michael wouldn’t be dealing well. And yet, Max had been here criticizing Michael for his careless dumping of Pierce’s bones. 

“You told him it was a good idea to hide them there!” The accusation flew out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she winced at the glare that Max gave her. He’d been like this to her ever since he had caught the two of them practicing. She didn’t understand him sometimes - he was so hot and cold. Also, his leadership skills were lacking, something that Nasedo had never said about Zan. 

Max turned and glared at her, his eyes hardening as he realized she wasn’t backing down. Ever since he had seen her with Michael practicing their powers, something had been different about her. She was questioning, not merely trying to gain their acceptance. 

“Whatever,” he huffed, running a hand over his face, trying to wipe away some of the stress that Michael’s incarceration had caused. “It still doesn’t change the fact that he was out there, _investigating_.” 

“Yeah, because he was trying to protect all of us. You know, doing what he was supposed to do!” She hissed, knowing that it was better to keep quiet, they were in the back room of the Crashdown after all. At least Nasedo had left to further investigate the Congresswoman’s role in all of this. He wouldn’t appreciate her questioning the ‘once and future king’. 

“Tess.” Isabel groaned as she saw the anger flash across Max’s face. This wasn’t solving anything, it was just an alien pissing contest. Michael was still in jail, and he had a better shot at getting out if they all worked together. However, Tess failed to acknowledge her and Max looked about ready to rip into Tess again. So much for everyone just getting along. 

“What he’s supposed to do is follow my lead. I’m the king.” He stressed the last word and glared at her, reminding her of the destiny she had inflicted upon them all. Isabel’s attempt to calm their tempers falling on deaf ears as they continued to glare at one another. 

Tess scowled, resisting the urge to slap him across the face. How dare he now accept his destiny just because it benefitted his argument! “Like you’ve been leading for the past three months? Gee Max, it’s no wonder Michael went off and did his own thing!” 

She blanched as she felt his eyes narrow and focus in on her. She didn’t know where those words had come from, in fact, a part of her wished she could revoke them. This defied everything that she had ever been taught, she had insulted the king. It wasn’t her place to do this, she thought to herself, her role was to support him. 

Yet, here she was, opening her mouth and arguing. If it had even been a few weeks ago, she would have been mortified and apologizing right about now. In fact, she doubted that she would have said anything at all. But, it was different now. Max had basically showed no concern for Michael, her one true friend in Roswell. 

Isabel looked over at Tess, who had a mixture of embarrassment and indignation painted on her features, as if she couldn’t decide if she should apologize or embark on another tirade. It mirrored her own conflicting emotions, she didn’t know where to side on this one. She agreed that maybe Max should have done more when they realized that Grant dug up the bones, but at the same time, Michael should have come to all of them first before camping out there alone. 

Her point was, this was getting them nowhere. And judging from the hateful looks Max was sending her way, he was merely coming up with a response to her last comment and not ready to move on. 

She opened her mouth, desperate to change the subject, to let the sharp words stop, when she heard Max’s voice. It was stoic, devoid of emotion, and she knew then, this argument was far from over. 

“You have been telling me for months to accept my destiny. And I have. Be careful what you wish for Tess.” 

Tess clenched and unclenched her fists, trying her hardest not to slap him across the face. This was below the belt, even for him. Granted, he was mad, but his words stung. He was taking destiny, the thing that she had been told to appreciate and strive toward for years, and twisting it, throwing it back in her face. 

“Whatever.” she huffed, swallowing hard to force back angry tears. She didn’t want to let him see how his words had affected her. Emotions were a weakness, she thought bitterly, one that she didn’t feel like exposing. Without another word, she brushed by them, racing out the back door of the Crashdown. What Michael needed right now was a friend, someone who would help him out of this. And since Max and Isabel were content to let him suffer for daring to protect them, it was up to her to do something. And she would, even if that meant mindwarping the police department to get him out of there - it sure would be more effective than arguing with Max. 

Tess scowled as she scanned the parking lot, looking for her car. “It’s gone,” she muttered, cursing Nasedo for taking it to go away from here. 

“Figures,” she scoffed, then took off running toward the police station, hoping to find Sheriff Valenti there. They hadn’t really interacted much, but he at least knew the truth, and she had a better shot of actually talking to Michael if a friendly face was on duty. 

Busting through the door of the Roswell Sheriff’s Office, she didn’t care what anyone thought of her display. She was out of breath and had grown more and more determined to see him as the seconds dragged on, she just didn’t know why. 

“Tess?” Sheriff Valenti asked as he watched the small girl rush into his office, wondering what exactly had brought her here. He knew that it had something to do with Michael, but she seemed like the least likely of the group to come. She, like Kyle and himself, were on the outskirts, whereas the other 6 had a long history between them. 

“Can I...” she paused, gripping the table as she greedily inhaled, needing the oxygen. “Can I see him?” 

Valenti stared at the girl, taking in her disheveled appearance. She looked genuinely upset that Michael was there and, unlike her father, filled with emotion. However, he was reluctant, the last thing that any of them needed right now was for her to use her powers and break Michael out of there. It would raise far too many questions, and he viewed that as a last resort. Michael had agreed with him when they’d talked in private a few moments ago. 

“Please,” she stressed, noticing the doubt that streaked across his face. “I promise, nothing... you know, weird, is going to happen,” she added, hoping that her vague reference to not using her powers would be enough to win him over. 

“Fine, but only for a few minutes,” he acquiesced, trying to be stern while a grin spread across her face. It had been too long since any of them had really smiled, and he was glad that something so small as seeing her friend made her happy. From his brief encounters with Nasedo, he had come to realize that she didn’t experience that very often. 

“Thank you,” she stated, blushing slightly as she realized how much of a grin was painted on her face. She then watched as Valenti got up and led her down the hall, opening up a door and revealing the empty cells, until they landed at one on the end that housed Michael. She frowned, hating this - it was too dark, too depressing and not the place to put someone who had saved their lives. 

If only the people of Roswell actually knew what their own were doing, she thought bitterly. It wasn’t that she shared Nasedo’s blind superiority complex, but she had to admit that humans definitely feared the wrong people. 

“Tess, what are you doing here?” Michael asked as he watched them approach. He was surprised to see her there, and a little glad at the same time to have company. He didn’t really understand it, but whenever he was around her he felt more like a person. She actually seemed to care about him and his well being, and not just because they were bound together by their heritage. 

“I’ll leave you two for as long as I can,” Valenti interrupted, then turned on his heal and left. He had work to do and for whatever reason he actually trusted the two of them to not violate the law. 

Tess nodded her head and met Michael’s eyes, her concern shining through her blue orbs. “I... I just needed to see you. I thought you might want someone to talk to, given the circumstances.” 

“So Maxwell didn’t send you to ream me out?” he teased, then groaned as he watched her frown at the mention of Max’s name. Great, Guerin, the girl comes to see how you’re doing and you piss her off, he thought to himself as he clawed at his eyebrow. 

Tess blanched at Max’s name, was that all he thought she was, even after the time they had spent together? Max’s bitch? She steeled herself, trying not to show how disappointed she was in Michael. 

“No.” 

Michael frowned as he heard the tone that her voice had adopted in her reply. The one word answer spoke volumes to what she was thinking, even if her face was devoid of emotion. She was mad at him, upset that he thought she was just doing it for Max. He thought about adding a “just kidding” but reasoned that she would just be more offended by the offhanded justification. 

She sighed in resignation, running a hand over her hair and smoothing it against her head. It was clear that he wasn’t going to explain himself or even initiate conversation with her. A small part of her didn’t really blame him, it had to be rough to be here, in prison. She’d be lying if she hadn’t heard the negativity surrounding Michael’s reputation and his life with Hank - a lot of people at school thought this was where he would end up, and she wondered if a small part of him thought that as well. 

Looking into his tired eyes, Tess whispered, “I came to see how you were holding up. Are you okay with everything?” 

Michael frowned as he idly scratched his eyebrow, deciding whether or not to give her the same speech he had given Valenti earlier. It was a version of the truth, at least, he had killed a man and this was where killers went, like he told Valenti. But at the same time, he wasn’t nearly as indifferent to the situation as he had acted. 

“No," he said finally, tired of feeling her eyes on his flesh, trying to divine an answer to her question. “All I can think about is the fact that I killed someone. He may have been out to kill us, but at the end of the day he’s still... gone and I wonder how long it’s going to be before I do it again.” 

She bit her lip nervously, mulling over what he had told her. Tess wanted to comfort him, tell him that it would be okay, but she, probably better than anyone else, knew that he’d never be the same again. 

“I can’t begin to understand what dealing with that is like for you, and I’m not going to try,” Tess began, watching as Michael gave her an appreciative nod. 

She had read him right, he didn’t want to be placated. “And I’m not going to talk about destiny and Nasedo’s mantra of how we’re better than everyone else. But what I will tell you, Michael, is that what you did that day, it saved all of our lives.” 

She raised her left hand as he began to interrupt, her blue eyes begging for him not to interrupt. “I’m not finished, I didn’t spend this morning arguing with Max about this to be interrupted.” 

She paused, smirking at Michael as he took in the weight of her words. “Anyway, while you may not trust yourself right now or even believe that you did good, I just want to let you know that I will always trust you not to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” She whispered, taking his hand in hers through the bars of the cell. 

A small bit of relief washed over him as he looked at her small hand in his. Tess trusted him even now, after he had killed someone and was in jail. She was willing to argue with Max, her destiny, because she believed in him. “You fought with Max?” he asked, deciding that they were done with the serious tone of their conversation. He would consider what she had said, but for now he was more interested in her argument. 

“Yeah, he was being a dick. I decided to say something about it. He really didn’t appreciate that much, surprise, surprise,” she explained rolling her eyes to emphasize her point. 

“He went on a power-trip, huh?” Michael asked, already sure of her answer. Max had taken to his new role as king easily, often using it as a justification for his actions, which were not always well thought out. And while he had gotten the brunt of Max’s actions, he was sure that Tess had received a lot of it as well. Max never really stopped blaming her for Liz’s departure this summer. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” she admitted as the first few notes of her cell-phone interrupted them. She reached into her pocket, retrieving it and looking at the display. 

“Speaking of his royal pain in the ass,” she groaned, flipping the phone open and placing it against her ear with an apologetic look. “Are you calling to apologize or are you going to scream at me some more Max?” 

Michael smirked at her answer, she really wasn’t taking any crap from him anymore and he found that amusing, and a little intriguing. She had opened up a lot more since they had begun talking, becoming more assertive and less willing to just sit around and wait for things to happen. 

“You what? Max, please tell me you’re joking!” She exclaimed, glad that Michael was currently the only occupant of the cell block. She couldn’t believe that the congresswoman had taken the bones to have them examined. 

“Well do you have a plan, or what?” she snapped, not really willing to get into a long winded discussion of how much worse this all had just gotten. She knew, they all knew. 

Michael frowned, from her tone of voice and the scowl on her face, whatever had happened just got monumentally worse. He wanted to ask her what was going on, but she was too angry to really pay attention. As the silence continued, he watched as her features softened slightly, but the worry was still evident on her face. Maybe Max had come up with a plan after all. 

“That could work, yeah, I can meet you now. Bye Max,” she rushed out, flipping the phone shut before Max could say another word. 

She turned to Michael and gave him an apologetic look, sorry that she had to cut this short. “I have to go, we’re going to get you out of here.” 

“Okay.” 

“Bye Michael,” Tess whispered and gave his hand a small squeeze before she turned and left. 

Michael watched as she left and just before she opened the door, he called out to her. 

“Tess!” he shouted and watched as she turned around to face him. “Thanks.” he finished earnestly, needing to let her know how much the visit had meant to him. 

Tess gave him a shy smile, touched by his gratitude, especially since he didn’t normally give it to people. “You’re welcome,” she stated, before exiting the cell, more determined than ever to get him out of there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are to "Recoil" by Ani DiFranco

_yes I have my father's heart_  
it may or may not keep on trying  
can't really tell you what it is  
keeps me this side of that dark line  
but I'm not there to take care of him  
and I'm not here to take care of me  
I'm going outside to watch the house burn down across the street 

He'd been watching her earlier, swaying to the music with Maria, Liz and Isabel. She had been off to the side at first, but as the music continued to play she moved closer to the group. It was then that he had noticed her smile as her hips swayed inviting him to dance. But he was rooted in place, struck by the ethereal glow that seemed to surround her. 

He moved to leave his seat at the counter and in that moment he forgot about Maria, who was on the periphery now, laughing and joking with Liz about something. He put his foot down on the linoleum floor, deciding that maybe if he started dancing with Tess, Maria would stop looking over at him like he was a piece of meat. 

There was a loud crash as the door and he recoiled, turning his attention away from Tess and toward the door. Max was there, in the center of the restaurant bloodied and bruised, and instantly the party was forgotten. 

"Nasedo's dead." The two words fell from his lips as he collapsed to the ground, as if the weight of the news had knocked him over. If what he said was true, everything was going to change. 

It all had been a blur after that - Isabel’s teary eyes, Max’s assertions that everything would be okay, Maria, Alex and Liz huddling together trying to figure out what they could do. But he had barely noticed them, he was too focused on her. 

She said something, her voice was strong, but somehow the words weren’t registering in his head. All that he could think about was that she had lost a father, just like he had. And here Max was, telling her that he was dead and his eyes indicated that there was nothing any of them could do. He never was good with sympathy. 

Pausing, he thought about the irony of it all. They were the two people within their group who had the worst parental figures, and they both were now the only two to have lost them. But then it occurred to him, it didn’t have to be this way. They could try and save Nasedo, it was a long shot, yes, but at the same time, he didn’t want to see Tess like this if it could be helped. 

“We have to get Nasedo to the pod chamber...use the healing stones to revive him. Max, where is he? Where's Nasedo?” he shouted at him, not caring that his normally stoic demeanor had given way to a frantic tone. This was for Tess, and while he didn’t understand why he was this determined to spare her more heartbreak, he didn’t care either. They had to move fast if there was even a small chance of saving Nasedo. 

“In my room,” Max answered and he withheld the urge to scream. Max could be so irresponsible, leaving Nasedo’s body in his bedroom for his parents to find was a prime example of that. But one look at Isabel and he knew that she shared that opinion and would admonish Max for his lack of discretion. Instead he turned to Tess, who was frowning as she looked at Max, displaying minimal emotion. 

Then he heard Maria, asking something, trying to take attention away from the matter at hand. She had a way of going off on tangents and this just wasn’t the time. They had to get Nasedo to the pod chamber, every second they wasted here was one that made it more difficult for him to live. 

“I’ll handle it,” he barked finally, not really sure what he was agreeing to handle. He just wanted Maria to stop talking, they had more important things to deal with at the moment. 

“You’re not in charge here Michael!” Tess snapped and Michael winced at the force behind her words. He knew all too well that she didn’t mean it, she was lashing out at him because she was angry, sad and scared. 

“Well someone has to be,” he responded, glaring at Max who was staring at his hands, trying to pretend that this hadn’t happened. Some leadership skills he had. 

From there they’d gone to the Pod Chamber, attempting, in vain to revive Nasedo. She’d cried and asked over and over why it wasn’t working, but none of them had an answer for her. But then, when Nasedo had dissolved into dust, she’d steeled her features, burying all of her emotions behind a layer of indifference. Max and Isabel hadn’t noticed, and why would they? If he hadn’t gotten to know her, he would have been fooled as well and he knew, in that moment, this wasn’t the first time she’d masked her feelings like this. 

He scratched his eyebrow, burying his concern for her under a false calm, the practiced gaze of a soldier coming back from battle. She didn’t want to see his worry for her etched on his face, he hated the way that Maria would look at him after Hank died and knew, instinctively, she would despise it as well. It had been nice at first, but after a while her looks had turned pitying and he didn’t want to do the same thing to Tess. 

“Let’s go,” Max suggested, heading toward the door. It was so like him, Michael mused, the second that there was something out of the ordinary, something alien, he got as far away from it as possible. 

“Okay,” Tess whispered, her voice devoid of the normal force behind it, but Max didn’t seem to pay it any attention. Michael frowned slightly as he followed them out, Max was supposed to be the one who did this sort of thing, he was the ‘girlfriend’, the one who was in tune with his emotions. Even Isabel would be better at this than he was, because she was supposed to be Tess’ friend, the only other female on the planet who could understand what it was like to be a girl and an alien. Michael didn’t really do emotions, and the kind of conversation that he knew that he’d be having later with Tess wasn’t really his forte. He’d barely ever talked to anyone about Hank’s death and now here he was, about to discuss Nasedo’s. 

The drive back to Roswell was long and tiring. Max and Isabel were talking idly about the start of their junior year and basically ignored Nasedo’s death. Michael just wasn’t saying much of anything at all and she just wanted to be anywhere but here. She guessed Max and Isabel’s reactions were typical, as long as they ignored everything around them that didn’t fit into their view of the world, they could continue to delude themselves into thinking that they were normal. Half of her wanted to scream at them, to make them see that they had a purpose, one that Nasedo had just died for, but the other half was telling her that their purpose died with Nasedo and so did everything that she believed in. 

So she sat there in the backseat next to Michael, shoving herself further into the cushion, hoping not to be noticed and dragged into a conversation. There was just too much going on in her head and all of it was more important than what Vicki Delaney did to try and win Kyle back and who Jessica Conner slept with. 

The closest person she had to a father was dead, and there was no trace that he’d ever been there in the first place. But instead of sharing her pain, her supposed family was making like nothing had even happened. It was like she could feel herself crawling out of her skin just listening to them. This wasn’t nothing, this was their protector and he’d died trying to warn them. 

The car jerked to a stop finally in front of her house, giving her a reprieve from this car and the banality of it all. She slid out of the seat, without a word and started walking even before the car had moved. The goal was to get as far away from that car and this night as possible. 

Michael watched as Tess walked off, frowning for a moment as he looked first at Max then at Isabel, both dumbfounded by her quiet departure. Max gripped at the key and slowly started the ignition, without a word. “Max, I’m going to just walk home from here,” he interrupted, his concern for Tess hidden under a veil of indifference. 

“You sure?” Max asked him, not particularly caring either way what he did. He was concerned about Nasedo, sure, but there was nothing they could do now and the best thing would be not to draw attention to themselves. Michael, of course, would disagree, which made the reprieve from his accusatory glare welcome. 

“Yeah,” Michael answered and exited the jeep, heading off after Tess. 

Tess tensed as he heard heavy footsteps hurrying after her. Praying that it was just coincidence and not the same person who killed Nasedo, she turned quickly and noticed Michael catching up to her, concern etched on his features. 

“Tess wait up!” 

“Michael I’m fine,” she stated, more for her assurance than his. Fighting the urge to cry she hurried ahead of him - this was no way for her to behave, she was supposed to be the strong one. And yet all she wanted was to go home, but the way that his eyes burned into her skin, even now that he was behind her suggested otherwise. It was ironic, she mused, because Michael was the one with her and he was the person who she would have assumed appreciated personal grieving the most. 

Michael scratched his eyebrow as he looked at her, noticing the exhaustion in her stride, even as she moved faster and faster, determined to maintain a distance from him. “No you’re not,” he called after her, deciding to forgo the sugarcoating and niceties, they were never really his style anyway. 

She spun toward him, angrily wiping the tears from her face. She knew he was right, but at the moment, she just wanted to be left alone. “I’m fine,” she stressed the last word, her blue eyes focused on him, a glaring sign of her displeasure toward his inquiry. 

“Tess,” Michael huffed as she marched ahead, unsure whether or not to follow behind. When he went through this, he wanted to be alone, to come to accept this on his own terms. But this time it was different, it was Nasedo, it was Tess. It wasn’t adolescent fears of moving away that they were dealing with, but fears about their own demise, the reality that life could be ripped from them at any second, that the enemy was out there. The implications of Nasedo’s death were much more dire than anything they had faced, and the thought of her internalizing that scared him. 

“Michael, please,” she begged, his features blurring beneath her watery gaze as she tried to hide her embarrassment. She had to be strong, stoic, focused, now was not the time to give into emotion. Nasedo wouldn’t want her crying over his death, he would want her to prepare for the worst, assume a leadership role because it was clear that Max was not ready for this fight. 

Michael sighed and watched as she walked away, her small body shaking and filled with unshed tears, a million sentences jumbled in his mind, left unsaid. He wished, in that moment, he was more eloquent, that he had something to say to lessen her grief. 

Hadn’t he gone through the same thing, a father he’d never wanted dying? Wasn’t there something one said to this grotesque initiation into abandonment that he had entered only months ago? But as he watched her leave he simply let out a resigned sigh and made his way to his own apartment feeling inadequate for not being able to say anything to get her to stay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are to "Anticipate" by Ani DiFranco

_Someone you don't know is someone you don't know_  
Get a firm grip girl, before you let go  
For every hand extended, another lies in wait  
Keep your eye on that one  
Anticipate.

She felt stupid. There were only seven numbers, and her fingers would hit them, one after another, stopping at six before promptly returning the receiver to its cradle. It was just a call, she chastised herself, and it wasn't that big of a deal. They were still friends, right?

"If Nasedo could see me now," she huffed and picked up the phone again, her fingers punching the plastic in a familiar pattern. And just like the other twenty times she had performed the ritual, she slammed it down after the sixth number.

"Tess, it's only Michael." She sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair and rolling her eyes as she stared into the mirror in her, well Kyle's, bedroom. She had been here a little over a week now, and she still felt strange about it, even though Kyle and the Sheriff were being extremely kind to her. Although she could deal without Kyle's dad, who had started insisting she call him Jim, asking her where she was going, or the imposed curfew, it was nice to know that he cared.

Although most people in their small club had chosen to avoid her, she really hadn't minded that much. The only thing that hurt was that Michael wasn't talking to her, at least not the way that he used to, before Nasedo died. She wasn't sure what had happened, and maybe he had taken her request to be left alone to mean forever instead of the night, but it was still weird.

Which brought her to this current dilemma. To call or not to call. She already knew he wasn't at work. Liz had helped her figure that out, it seemed she could be a nice person, when they weren't competing for Max's affections. But who knew if he even wanted to be friends with her anymore. While she didn't think that he was one to just cut off people from his life, even if he appeared that way from the outside, she still didn't know if he wanted to hear from her.

"Hey Harding, the point of a phone is that you push the buttons and you talk to someone." Kyle barked and she jumped, the receiver hitting the floor. She hadn't even realized that she'd picked up the phone again. Great, Tess, now Kyle thinks you're an idiot too.

"Sorry." She called back, putting the phone back as her cheeks burned. This was just what she needed, Kyle thinking that she was just some pathetic girl. Of course, that might play into whatever sick fantasies he had, which was not exactly what she wanted either. He was cute and everything, but getting involved with someone while sharing a house was far too Brady Bunch for her tastes.

"You going to Isabel's thing tonight?" Kyle asked as he entered her room. She blanched as she racked her brain for what ‘thing’ was tonight.

"What thing?" Tess asked, flopping down on the bed and inviting Kyle to come further into the room. She crossed her legs Indian style as she stared up at him, expectantly.

"Her surprise party. I thought Liz said something about it to you." Kyle replied and she inhaled sharply. That was today? She had lost all track of time apparently, probably because she was wasting too much of her energy worrying about whether Michael was mad at her or not.

"Good going Tess," she mumbled under her breath, hoping that Kyle wouldn't pick up on her self deprecation. "Oh yeah, I totally forgot about it. I have to go down to Hondo to get her a gift, I guess."

"Yeah, do you think if I give you some money you can pick something up? I'd go with you but I've got practice." Kyle asked and she smirked at him to hide her disappointment.

Driving to Hondo was the last thing she wanted to do, even if she had a nice car, the drive still sucked and walking around the mall alone wasn't her ideal way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Plus, she had no idea really what Isabel even liked. She knew that the girl was into fashion and liked expensive things, but other than that, she had no clue. They'd only been friends briefly, before destiny and everything else that was associated with last summer.

"But Kyle, I thought you said I was your favorite Martian," she drawled, brushing an unruly curl from her face. "Why don't you buy me any presents?"

"What about that bedroom you're in, I think that was a pretty nice present you know," Kyle returned, flashing her a smile to show that he was kidding. "Tell you what, I'll get you breakfast at the Crashdown before you head out."

"Kyle, it's 11:30." Tess smirked, her blue eyes dancing in amusement as he faltered slightly, before grinning at her.

"Okay, fine, lunch it is!" He announced and grabbed her wrist, leading her out of the house before she could protest. She rolled her eyes as he handed her the keys to her car before picking up his football gear. No need to make him think that she appreciated his humor too much, it would make the burp and fart jokes even more common.

The second that she walked in she saw him. He was sitting down with Max and Isabel at one of the booths. She sighed and sat down in another booth, not wanting to spoil the conversation or her lunch with Kyle. She would talk to Michael, she would. It was only a matter of time. And she could waste a little more of it by talking to Kyle, not that she was avoiding Michael or anything.

"That was the least convincing thought ever, Harding," she mumbled, rolling her eyes as she stared blankly at the menu. It was another stalling technique. She already knew what she wanted, it was just that she felt nervous.

"Hey guys," Liz greeted, her ebony locks pulled taught and high off her face. Tess always wondered if there was some special technique the dark haired girl employed to make her ponytail bounce as she moved, or if it was just inherent in her walk. It used to aggravate her, the way that even Liz's hair seemed so happy, but now it was just idle curiosity.

"Hey," She heard Kyle greet her, his blue eyes shining in that friendly way of his. It was hard to believe that only months ago they weren't speaking. He was the scorned lover and she was the one who had broken his heart. But now that the two of them shared a secret, her secret, it seemed like it had all faded into distant memory. How convenient for them, she mused silently as she twirled her hair between her fingers.

"The usual?" Liz asked and Tess found herself nodding her head, despite a wish to order something different. It was always this routine. She'd want to try something else, and wind up with a Cherry Coke and Lime, hamburger, well done and plain, with french fries. Kyle must have agreed as well, because Liz was gone without another word.

She opened her mouth to say something, but shut it, instead focusing in on Michael. He was sitting with his back toward her, but she could see his right hand moving up and down, dabbing french fries mindlessly in tabasco sauce. His shoulders were knitted together, as if he was upset about something, and she had half a mind to go over there and talk to him, but decided against it. Kyle was talking and she wasn't listening, the least she could do was engage him in some conversation. He was paying, after all.

"...so that's why I don't want to go to class on Monday." Kyle finished and she smirked, glad that there wasn't too much thought required to follow the conversation.

"But then you'll miss all the girls. I know they're not busty college co-eds or anything, but since you like busty biker babes, clearly you don't discriminate." Tess volleyed, hoping that he wouldn't notice that she had been watching Michael only seconds earlier.

"When are you going to let that go?" Kyle whined, his blue eyes dancing in amusement as he met her gaze. Exhaling, she pushed her blonde hair back off her face and smirked, watching with little interest as the new blonde waitress dropped their drinks off at the table.

"Whenever you let your issue with my 'bewitched crap' drop. You know, I could always make your Jugs turn into milk cartons." It was a low blow to go after the porn, but it was Kyle, and he liked their repartee. Plus, his constant wariness with her powers was off-putting.

"Fine, fine, whatever. Just leave the ladies alone."

She smiled at that, catching the fearful look on his face. It was porn, not his anatomy, that she was threatening. 

"Because two bags of silicone in a person's chest makes someone female."

"Harding, don't ruin this for me."

"And isn't it against Buddhism anyway to look at naked women in magazines?"

"Don't bring him into it,” Kyle interjected just as Liz set down their food. Tess watched, with interest, as Liz glanced between the two of them. She suspected something was happening, that much was obvious. And she suspected that Liz wanted something to happen. Although she had made no move toward Max, she was sure that Liz would be happier if she was paired off with another strapping young lad.

Ha, too bad that was the last thing she wanted.

“And now you’re getting defensive over the fat bald man. Why Kyle Valenti, I never knew before but your need for full contact tackling, adoration for seemingly wise old men and vast assortment of hair products makes sense. It’s okay, we’ll keep it between us, your dad never has to know that you’d rather have Playgirl under your sheets.”

Her eyes danced as she watched Kyle’s mouth fall open in shock. It was similar to the way she’d walked past him and grabbed his boxers, the first day she was in the Valenti’s house. She’d almost regretted it, but she knew better. It was like Nasedo had said, keep everyone at arms length. If anything, her experience with Michael was a clear reminder. The second things had gotten rocky, they pulled apart and hadn’t spoken. And if only she’d kept him from getting too close, she wouldn’t be this upset.

“One of these days, Tess, I’m going to show you how much of a real man I can be.” Kyle returned, his blue eyes darkening as he looked up and down her body.

She felt the warmth rise to her face and she groaned inwardly. This was not how it was supposed to go, not at all. Stupid human hormones. Raising an eyebrow, she silently shoved a fry into her mouth, willing herself to regain her composure. She didn’t even like Kyle, did she?

No, she totally didn’t like him. She didn’t like anyone like that, it was stupid anyway. She was destined for Max, and although she was not really a big fan of his right now, he was the only one she was going to end up with. Or at least that was what Nasedo said over, and over, and over.

Sighing, she bit down on her lip as she watched Max and Liz eye one another. As much as she didn’t want Max, a small part of her wanted someone to look at her that way. “I must be getting on the rag or something,” she mumbled, turning back to her meal. It was the only way to explain her need for companionship.

They ate in silence for a moment, while she continued to steal glances at Michael, Isabel and Max. It didn’t matter what she did, she’d still be on the outside, and maybe she shouldn’t be too quick to brush off Kyle’s advances. He at least was still talking to her, more than she could say for her supposed family.

“So, are you actually looking forward to this thing tonight?” Tess asked, watching, with interest, as the new blonde waitress circled around the aliens’ table. Her skirt was too short, as in, shorter than every other waitress’ skirt and her boobs were much too high. It was a walking advertisement for cheap and easy, but Michael sure seemed to be enjoying the view.

Biting down on her lip, Tess watched as the skank moved closer to their table, leaning deftly over the Formica. She clenched and unclenched her fists under the table, willing herself to force back the urge to make her slip and fall on the floor.

“Because I’m totally not.” She finished, flicking her hair over her shoulder for emphasis. And she really wasn’t. It’d be different if she and Isabel were actually friends, but they weren’t, and it would just be weird. Plus, she’d have to be around the rest of the group, and they’d all find some way to leave her off to the side.

“I am. Whitman’s stripping!” Kyle hissed, and she opened and shut her mouth in shock. How did she not know about this? Fuck awkward moments, this might just make her night.

“How do you know?” Tess whispered, returning Kyle’s conspiratorial smirk with one of her own as she leaned in closer, lunch long forgotten.

“I had to take him to the store to buy that shit. They don’t card you at the porn store if you mention you’re the sheriff’s son and you appreciate their fine operation. Don’t tell anyone, he wants it to be a surprise.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’m just finally glad to finally have a secret to keep.”

“I know the feeling,” Kyle muttered and met her gaze. Maybe he felt it too, the way that they were both the new people, on the outside, looking in on the rest of them. She flashed him a demure smile and took another bite of her meal.

The sea foam green caught her eye, and she looked over at Michael. The slut was now not only leaning on him, but whispering in his ear. And it looked like he was enjoying it! Rolling her eyes she turned away. She didn’t care, not really, it was just some ugly gangly human. And her relationship with Michael wasn’t like that. They were friends, and he had Maria and Isabel, and she wasn’t about to get involved. Not that she would anyway, because it was none of her business.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go. We’ve got a big game next weekend and Coach is going to be on us all week.” Kyle stated, breaking her away from her thoughts. She smiled and nodded her head in understanding. Right, he had to go to practice and she had to buy presents.

“Okay, have fun. Can’t wait for the show later.” She winked at him, and she watched in amusement as he gave her a shy grin. Who knew that Kyle had an introverted bone in his body? Frankly, she didn’t.

“Yep, here’s some cash. Keep the dollar bills for the private show.” Kyle smirked and handed her some money, before turning and leaving her to pay for their meal. His departure must have been felt, because seconds later Liz was back over at the table with the bill. Handing the brunette some cash, she watched as Michael and the slutty waitress continued to talk, much to the annoyance of Isabel and Max. And she was sure, if she was sitting at that table, she’d be annoyed too. Tess knew that she was well endowed, but at least she didn’t go around spread eagle in a hiked up velcro uniform and a trashy push up bra.

“God,” she huffed, picking up her purse and headed over to their table. She’d feel better after she talked to him, she reasoned. It was just because she was mad that he hadn’t called her back. That was it.

“Hey, Michael?” Tess greeted, groaning inwardly as she heard her voice raise the last syllable of his name, as if it were a question. He wasn’t really looking at her though, which was nice, she could only imagine what sort of look she was giving the blonde slut who was currently commandeering Michael’s attention.

“Yeah?” Michael asked, still refusing to look at her. She scowled at that, and for the first time, got what Maria bitched about all the time. She was sure it was a product of his time with Hank, but it’d be nice to be actually acknowledged.

She opened her mouth and shut it, forcing herself to keep her cool. There were two ways to go with this, and the proper one was not to scream in the middle of a crowded restaurant. “Um, I think we need to talk.”

She watched as Max and Isabel muttered excuses and left, their bills already paid. But the skanky waitress, whose tacky silver nameplate read Courtney, still hovered. And although she wasn’t talking, it was clear that she wasn’t leaving either.

“In private.” She huffed, glaring at the leggy blonde girl. Tess watched as the waitress raised an eyebrow, but left the table. Sliding into the booth that Max and Isabel had vacated, she stared at Michael, who was angrily scratching at his eyebrow.

“She seems awfully friendly.” Tess smirked, unable to resist the barb.

But it seemed that Michael wasn’t too pleased with her comment. His face darkened as he shifted in his seat to face her, and for that moment, she wished she’d managed to keep her mouth shut.

When he didn’t say anything, she pushed her hair off her face and tried again. “So, long time no see, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He replied, barely paying attention to what she was saying. Michael was already searching out the waitress again, and she was growing more annoyed by the second. He was supposed to be her friend, and that meant at least acknowledging her whenever she was sitting across from him.

“I’ve missed hanging out with you.”

“Yeah, well you’ve had Kyle to fill that void in your life.” Michael muttered, still not looking at her.

She raised her eyebrows in shock as she registered what he was saying. How dare he! She was actually making friends other than him, and he was pissed about it? At least Kyle was in on their little secret, something she certainly couldn’t say for the blonde whore.

“Whatever, Michael. At least he looks at me when we’re having a conversation.”

“Uh huh.”

Tess rolled her eyes at the brush off. He was still following the slut in mint green around the Crashdown. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she forced back the urge to scream at him. She needed to get out of here, it was clear that Michael was too busy with his friend walking tits and ass to look at her. Maybe if she had a growth spurt she’d get the attention she needed from her friend.

“Look, we’ll do this later when tall, ugly and skanky isn’t around to get the attention of your far less intelligent head. I’ll see you tonight.” Tess sighed, and got up from her chair, when she felt Michael’s gaze fall on her for a moment.

Hopeful that she had gotten through to him, he simply smirked at her. “Jealous?” He asked in that irresistible husky tone of his and she groaned. He wasn’t getting it at all. What the hell was up with him?

“Hardly.” She barked, and marched out to her car, letting the restaurant door slam behind her.

Jamming the key into the ignition, she felt the car roar to life when she looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was already one thirty. Shocked that she’d wasted an hour and a half at the Crashdown, she peeled out of the parking lot. She still had to get to the mall and back before Isabel’s party.

She found the highway easy enough, a perk of being in a small town, and found herself flying down the highway when Michael’s final shot played in her head. She wasn’t jealous, was she? Michael was her friend, her mildly attractive, very fun to be around friend. And sure, they had similar family histories, and had been spending a lot of time together, but that was it.

She just missed him, his sarcastic comments, the way that he would play Metallica even though she hated it to “educate” her. The way that he could say more without speaking than most people could say in thousands of words.

Pulling off the exit, she felt her muscles tense as she remembered the way that Michael had been watching the waitress, Courtney. She’d never seen anyone look at someone like that, and as much as it disgusted her, she wanted someone to look at her like that.

Maybe she was jealous, just a little. But no one would have to know, and Michael was her friend, it wasn’t like that between the two of them. Max was her destiny. Or more aptly, Max and his ego were her destiny.

“What a fucking winner,” Tess huffed, still speeding down the empty road. She didn’t care, she had to be back soon, and she was annoyed. Speeding was a great release that way.

Although she’d never admit it to anyone, she never saw what her past self had seen in Zan. Especially if he was anything like Max. Max was attractive, but that was it. And he had funny ears. Liz could have him. But she totally got why Vilondra liked Rath. Michael was smart, sarcastic, mysterious, interesting to talk to. And that smirk was really, really sexy.

If they weren’t friends, she totally would go for that.

“Oh god.” Tess moaned, her face flushing as she thought about Michael and that smirk of his. The playful glint in his eye whenever they joked about something.

“I like Michael.” She whispered the confession, even though she knew she was alone. It was one of those unmentionables, if Nasedo was alive, he would flip out on her. And it wasn’t like she could do anything about it anyway, could she? Although she liked Michael, he couldn’t possibly like her back, right? At least not when std-infested blonde waitresses were busy throwing themselves at him.

She floored the gas, not paying any attention to the road or her surroundings as her confession danced around her head. She liked Michael. She really, really, really, liked Michael. And she might just do something about it. Someday.

Suddenly, she heard the shattering of metal against metal and felt the world around her start to spin. Her lithe body, unable to get its bearings, smashed against the steering wheel and everything faded to black.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are "Creep" by Radiohead

_I wish I was special  
But I'm a creep,  
I'm a weirdo  
What the hell am I doin' here?  
I don't belong here_

Michael walked up to the door, and stepped back. He didn't know what he was going to say to her. Hell, he didn't even know if she wanted to see him. The only thing he did know was that he wanted to see her.

Shuddering, he remembered the last time he saw Tess. She was crying and frail as Sheriff Valenti carried her to the cop car. Her bruises were fresh and marring her porcelain skin, while her clothes were covered in blood. And he could only watch in abject horror as the petite girl looked around, haunted by what had happened to her. Max had gone to her after that, healing the damage, then he had been pulled away by someone, leaving Tess to go home with Valenti.

And now, three days later, he was standing outside her doorway, trying to figure out a way to knock. He wasn't the type of person to come to the door, but with the way the two of them had gone at it he didn't feel comfortable barging in.

But Kyle had begged him to come, saying that maybe she would talk to him. He doubted it, but wasn't about to turn his back on Tess now, not when she had nowhere else to turn. Inhaling, he scratched at his eyebrow, and raised his hand to the door, only to second guess himself. Tess was analytical, she would know that he was more likely to barge in uninvited. She would see that his polite request for entry for what it was, he felt sorry for what had happened.

And although it was true, Michael knew, more than anything else, Tess hated pity.

Determined, he cupped the knob, forcing a little energy into the lock, and it lifted, effortlessly. Without a word, he entered the home, and noticed the petite blonde sitting erect on the couch, the television blaring in the background as pictures flickered and reflected back on her face.

Walking further into the room, he realized that she was watching sports, and not any sport, football. It was a game from the eighties, probably a Super Bowl, rebroadcast on ESPN Classic. Tess hated sports, football worst of all. Realizing she hadn't bothered to change the channel, he stared at her for a moment, catching a sideways glimpse of her face. Her eyes were dull and emotionless, her face blank as she continued to stare at the screen.

Michael felt the familiar guilt rise within him. If only he hadn't been so intent on investigating Courtney, this might not have happened. Or, at the very least, Tess might have reached out to him instead in her time of need instead of thinking that he was angry. Her parting shot at the diner danced around in his head. And to think, he'd found Courtney's comment about her make-up mildly amusing.

That was the worst part, he was laughing at Tess while she was being tortured. He was no better than Isabel, who passed all of Tess' cries off as a headache. He liked to tell himself that he wouldn't have hesitated, that he would have listened, but the more he watched her, he felt like he was becoming more and more like Max, falling into denial.

Cursing under his breath, he scowled, watching as the Steelers scored a touchdown. So, it had to be the 14th Super Bowl, Michael mused. None of them had even been alive then, so she obviously wouldn't care too much if he turned it off. With a wave, he watched the screen go black, and inhaled, expecting Tess to yell at him.

Instead he was met with silence. In fact, Tess hadn't even moved or reacted to him.

"I heard you haven't been into talking lately." He said finally, standing in front of her now. It was the only thing he could think of to say, and he realized, right then, what a bad idea coming to her had been.

He watched as Tess shrugged her shoulders, the hollow look of sadness that had become a fixture of her expression more pronounced than it had been previously.

"Well you know where to find me." He scowled, turning away, mad at himself that he hadn't been able to do anything for her. Who was he kidding, he was a fuck up, a nobody. It only made sense that he failed her again. He was supposed to be her friend, and more than that, he was supposed to be the protector. And, as this exchange with Tess showed, he was terrible at both.

He watched as she lamely nodded her head, her blonde hair, which normally framed her face fell flat, and he wondered when she had last bothered to wash it. Kyle had said that she just sat around the house, either her room or the living room, but she never really did anything. Valenti let her skip school because he had no idea what else to do for her.

It seemed to be a standard line, no one could deal with Tess. So they left her alone, and he was about to do the same thing.

"You know what, fuck that." Michael snapped, turning back toward her. Without a word, she turned toward him wide eyed, her shock palpable in the quiet house.

"Get dressed Harding, we're going to my place. You don't have to talk, but you sure as hell are going to listen."

Anger momentarily flickered in her eyes, only to fizzle out seconds later. It was a sign, not the one he'd been hoping for, but at least she wasn't cationic.

Tess slowly got up from her spot on the bed and followed him, and Michael wondered, again, what they'd done to her. He had just left her there too overcome with guilt and helplessness to do anything. Isabel had been the one who saved her, and Max had healed her. More proof that he was the expendable one in the group. And, not only that, he was incapable of doing his own duties. He should have known that Whittaker was a threat, and he also should have realized that physical healing does nothing for emotional trauma.

Michael Guerin, eternal fuck up. It made sense why Tess didn't want to be around him anymore. And once he got her to talk, he'd grant her that wish.

They made it to his place fast enough, no words were spoken the entire way there. He’d borrowed the rental Valenti had gotten for Tess, figuring since he walked, it was easier for her, since she barely seemed mobile at this point.

Waiting until she found a seat, unsurprisingly in the center of his couch, he mulled over what to say to her. There were so many things he could say at a time like this, that he was sorry for being a dick a few days ago, that he wished there was something that he could do. But everything hinted that he was apologetic, a move that she would interpret as pity. And since when was he one for apologies anyway? She’d been just as bad at this as he was, not talking to him, hanging around Kyle like his newest trophy blonde.

But the guilt and nervousness were too much to ignore. He had fucked up, and fucked up badly. Tess was hurt, because he couldn’t do what he was created to do. Protect her, protect all of them.

And now he was in his shitty apartment, with her, feeling even more on edge than he had when he first saw her. Some fucking intervention.

"Are you okay?" He asked finally, hoping that she would respond.

"Why does everyone ask me that when they know the answer?” She seethed, her blue eyes trained on him, shooting hateful daggers invisibly through him. At least it was a start. “No, I'm not physically hurt. We both know Max is able to fix that. But it's pretty fucking obvious that I'm not okay."

"And she speaks." Michael drawled, unable to think of anything else to say. Tess was angry, and it was better than that blank stare of hers. So, then, the best thing to do, it seemed, was to keep her angry. Maybe then he’d get a glimpse of what was wrong.

"Fuck you. I'm leaving." Tess barked, shooting up from the couch. The anger and hatred in her voice resonated loudly in the small room, and it took him a second to recover.

With a start, he raced toward the door, ready to block her exit. He couldn’t let her leave, not when she was actually listening for the first time all day.

"To do what? To go back to being a mute again? Because that's a great plan."

Almost as great as your idea to piss Tess off, Michael scoffed, wordlessly bracing himself against the doorframe. She may have stronger abilities than him, but he was far bigger in size.

"I'm _leaving_." She stressed the last word, bringing a hand back to challenge him.

"No you aren't, because as much as you don't want to hear this right now, you don't want to be alone more."

The words fell out of his mouth before he had any chance to think them over. He was never good at empathy, in fact, he sucked at it. Words would get jumbled and he’d inevitably piss someone off, when all he was doing was trying to help. But he was good at reading people, sensing what they wanted. And he knew that the last thing Tess wanted was to be alone right now.

"So now you’re going to say that you know me?"

Forcing back the urge to comment sarcastically, he unlocked his arms and met her angry gaze with sad eyes. Her face softened, slightly, but still a lot of her emotions were kept under a wall. It seemed that when Nasedo had told her that emotions were for the weak, she’d learned all the tricks.

“No, but I know what it’s like to be abused.”

His words hung in the air, untouched for a few minutes. Michael was too blown away by his confession to say anything else. He’d never really used the words before in reference to Hank, but there was nothing else left to say to get her to listen. He’d seen girls act like this at the trailer park, their husbands would come home after nights with JD and pummel them to shit. And they’d just sit there the next morning, on the stoop, not saying a word. The more he thought about Tess’ behavior, the more it was beginning to remind him of that.

And it scared him.

“So, then I guess this is where I tell you everything that I’ve been going through, and you say it’s all going to be okay?”

The question was jarring, hardly what he would have suspected from her. And if it weren’t for the desperation and the sadness peppered in her inflection, he’d think she was mocking him.

“Tess, this isn’t some movie.” Michael drawled, unsure of his next move. This seemed like the twilight zone version of their first conversation. And instead of her crying on his shoulder and admitting that she wasn’t okay, she was angry with him for even asking.

So, he figured, it was best to wait to see if she was comfortable enough to show her hand, how she was feeling about it all.

“I know, it’s my _life_.” Tess screamed and he moved closer to the shaking girl, placing a tentative hand around her shoulders. She stood stiff for a moment, before finally leaning into him. Guiding her to the couch, Michael felt her warm tears on his skin, as his fingers combed through her matted hair.

They sat in silence, her soft cries the only noise in the quiet apartment, and Michael realized how effortless this was for him. Although tears usually set him on edge, especially Maria’s, this felt right to him. It confused him. But before he had a chance to think about it any further, Tess shifted against him, and he turned toward her.

“I don’t know where to begin.”

“The beginning is always good.”

“Gee thanks smart ass.” Tess returned, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth, which he returned without a second thought. It was good to see her smile, if only for a second.

Tess shifted in her spot on his couch, inhaling deeply as she looked at the carpet. “I learned some things about Nasedo. About what a fucking great protector he was, turns out the only person he was out to protect was himself.”

She shuddered, and clenched her fists, her soft body sitting ridged beside him. Curiously, Michael cocked an eyebrow but held his tongue. She was beginning to open up to him, and he was not about to stop her.

“He cut this deal, 40 years ago. I get knocked up with Max’s kid and we all go home with the granolith. Khivar lets me and Nasedo live, kills the rest of you, and we spend the rest of our lives on Antar. Some fucking great guy, huh?”

Michael opened his mouth only to shut it again. He felt his own anger rising at Tess’ bitter words. He was supposed to _protect_ them, not try and sell them all out and force Tess to be the unwitting pawn in this game. He had trusted Nasedo, they all had. Hell, he had put the little faith he had into what Nasedo had said, their purpose, their people.

Turns out he was just like everyone else he knew, he was in it for himself. And not only that, he was willing to use the closest thing he had as to a daughter to save his own hide. If he weren’t already dead, he would have loved to have the chance to beat the shit out of him.

“Maybe they were just fucking with you. They had just killed him, and probably knew that you had spent so much time with him.” It sounded weak, even to him, and he knew from the sarcasm in her voice that there was no doubt left. She _knew_ what Nasedo had done.

“Michael,” She huffed, and he caught the distraught look in her eye. “They called me Ava, sat me down and fed me. They talked to me like an equal, like I was one of them. It wasn’t until they knew that I had no idea what they were talking about, that I wouldn’t betray my _family_ that they started going at me.”

“Fuck!” Michael bellowed and forced down the urge to hit something. That was the last thing Tess needed to see right now, as much as he wanted to drive his fist through the wall, all the while imagining it was Nasedo’s head. How the fuck could he have done this to them, to Tess? She was a good fucking person, and if she wasn’t, she would have taken them up on that damn deal of theirs. If not at first, then after a few rounds of beating. He knew, better than anyone, the desire to just give in when you were being attacked, and he was sure that otherworldly blasts hurt a lot fucking worse than a drunk with a belt.

“What did they do to you?” He asked, his fury contained for the moment. As much as it angered him, he had to know. The beatings were obvious, he’d seen them, but he doubted that was all they had done. If they were even half as cunning as Nasedo, he was sure there was more to this.

She looked quizzically at him for a moment, only to turn away as her breath hitched in her throat. Tess’ blue eyes were dark and filled with tears when she turned back toward him, and he noted how frail she looked next to him. This wasn’t going to be good.

“They... they held me down, after you know,” She trailed off and he nodded, knowing what she was getting at. It was probably some little bitches who had beat her for a while. Those real men, too pussy to actually hit someone who matched their strength so they took it out on teenage girls.

“I... I tried to use my powers, but they had this thing that stopped them from working. I didn’t really get a good look, my vision wasn’t really doing too well. They were too... too strong, and I was held in this chair and...”

Tess was rubbing violently at her eyes now, which were shedding tears freely. It unnerved him, he’d seen Tess cry before, but this was somehow more than that. Whatever they had done to her had really gotten to her, destroyed all the strength that her tiny body possessed.

“Someone went into my mind, Michael. I don’t...don’t know how, but I felt this burning sensation, and all my memories being violated. Things I didn’t even remember were being taken from me. My favorite color when I was eight years old, that I hated my first grade teacher, the first time I successfully used my powers, meeting the three of you.

“I didn’t have control of anything, and my private thoughts aren’t _mine_ anymore. Do you know what that feels like? Everything I’ve ever felt before is now known to this... this asshole.”

Tess inhaled sharply, her eyes darting wildly around the room, and he opened his mouth to say something, only to close it again when he realized that she wasn’t finished. “But that’s not the scariest part. He told me that he’d give me some time to think the deal that Nasedo made over, but if I didn’t agree, he could make me more _willing_ to comply. And to prove his point, he made me blast myself in the stomach. It was like I was some marionette doll and he was pulling the strings.”

Michael pursed his lips as the rage built within him. He wanted to kick things, blare Metallica as loud as it could go and forget about it all. He had seen more than his fair share of the dark side of people, but this just made him angrier than anything else ever had. He’d grown accustomed to the idea that there were humans out there who wanted nothing more than the four of them, but aliens, not even just aliens, but their guardian, turning against them was entirely new.

“How the fuck can they do that?” Michael seethed, unable to understand how any alien would have the power to control another person’s mind, their actions. It just didn’t seem fair, making people see things is one thing, but controlling everything they do is bullshit.

“I don’t, I don’t know.” Tess stammered, shifting in her seat. She ran a hand through her hair and frowned, biting on her lower lip as she thought something over.

“I can show you, if you want. But... you have to trust me enough to form a connection.” The words fell from her mouth in a whisper, as she stood up, facing him.

Michael nodded his head and ignored Tess’ outstretched hands, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her into him. She stiffened in his arms, but he didn’t think anything of it, what they were about to do was awkward, for both of them. They were friends, good friends, but there was nothing romantic about it. It wasn’t some epic bullshit like Max and Liz, they were just two people who needed to figure out that next move. And if he had to kiss her, so be it. She wasn’t ugly or anything, she was actually kind of hot.

Not that he was looking.

Groaning, Michael realized that he was just prolonging the inevitable, he leaned down, cupping her cheek in his palm. He felt her breathing pick up slightly, blowing soft pockets of air onto his skin. Why was he thinking so much? Didn’t Max always bitch at him for not thinking?

Whatever.

Pressing his lips against hers, he urged them open, teasing her and begging for entry. Ignoring her inability to soften against him, he worked on satisfying her mouth. She probably just didn’t have a lot of experience.

She eased into him, her lips gently sucking on his as tentative hands began to roam up and down his back. Within seconds he felt a warm sensation rush through him as a connection flared to life.

However, instead of images of what happened to her, they were all feelings for him. How she valued their friendship, how hurt she’d been after Nasedo’s death, her jealousy toward Courtney, and how she’d realized that she wanted him.

Michael should have stopped, realized that this was wrong, but he was so overwhelmed with her feelings that he continued to kiss her, their mouths moving together as they fell to the couch. His tongue clashed against hers, as his hands slipped under her shirt.

“Michael,” she moaned, staring up at him with darkened eyes, desire painted on her face. Pausing, he listened to her breathing and blanched. Somewhere along the way they had forgotten about what’d she had gone through, the whole reason they’d done this in the first place.

She wasn’t ready for this, she was still hurting and he’d taken advantage. What was it that Hank used to say? Bitches were always easier when they were crying? He had vowed never to do that to anyone, especially no one he cared about. But here he was, on top of Tess when she’d been crying on his shoulder an hour ago.

Getting up from the couch, he frowned as anger raged within him. He couldn’t even think right now, not when Tess was staring at him in concern, her eyes which had been filled with need moments ago were watery and she’d grown uncertain.

“I... I need to go,” Michael stammered and shot out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. He knew that if he waited a second longer, he’d blow something up, possibly even her. The only thing that would accomplish was Tess finally realizing that she didn’t want a fuck up like him, although he was sure that whenever she was thinking clearly, she’d see just how much of a jerk he was and that she was stupid to find him desirable.

Maybe that’d be what he would do, make the decision for her. He liked Tess, and she deserved better than some asshole who would take advantage of her like that. Yeah, he just needed to get as far away from Tess as possible.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are to "Human Behaviour" by Bjork

_There's no map_

_To human behaviour_

_They're terribly moody_

_Then all of a sudden turn happy_

_But, oh, to get involved in the exchange_

_Of human emotions is ever so satisfying_

Tess was beginning to hate the passage of time. The feel of seconds drifting away without any real awareness of what was going on frightened her. She assumed that if anyone cared to classify it, they'd claim that she was just _going through the motions_. And they would be right, but it was so new to her, the overwhelming weight of conflicting emotions on her shoulders made everything worse.

Nasedo was onto something, emotions were a terrible affliction of the weak, and she had never felt so helpless in her life. Angrily forcing a stray curl back behind her ear she cursed herself for thinking about him, for thinking anything he'd said was _right_. He was the one who put her in this mess in the first place.

Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her body as she headed to her locker. It was Monday; a fact that would have been lost on her if it weren't for Kyle asking if she wanted a ride to school. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she stared at her books in an attempt to focus. The lack of sleep was catching up with her, the facade weakening with every passing second.

School was unbearable, the stares of others we driving her crazy. Although she knew that they had no knowledge of what was going on, she couldn't help but feel trapped, her secrets on display. Her thoughts had already been taken from her, who was to say what her enemies would do with them?

Tess shifted her weight from one foot to the other, frowning in displeasure as she scanned the halls. She'd given up on seeing Michael a few days ago. He'd made it painfully clear that he wasn't interested in talking about whatever had happened between the two of them. But it didn't mean that a little part of her wasn't hoping he'd prove her wrong.

Exhaling, she made her way to class, hoping that she didn't get detention for being late. The last thing she needed was to spend more time in this place. Tess didn't trust her powers to work right, so mindwarping the teacher into forgetting her tardiness was out of the question.

Not to mention that it was something Nasedo would have endorsed, and she was on a fast track to purge her psyche of everything related to Nasedo, and his teachings. Plus, recent circumstances had made her less willing to manipulate the minds of others.

Hustling down the hallway, she prayed that the second bell wouldn't ring until after she found her seat. She gripped at her books as she ran, ignoring the dark eyes that watched her every move. Whipping past the eraser room, Tess felt herself fall forward, into the closet, and her screams die in her throat.

_This isn't happening_. The thought raced through her head like a silent plea as she grasped for things to throw at her assailant. Tensing as she backed herself into the darkest corners of the small room, she prayed that whoever had pushed her in here would fail to notice her.

Her body jerked and stiffened as the door opened and slammed shut once more. Biting down on her bottom lip and forcing back the tears that threatened to spill, she willed her powers to work. She was a fighter, she thought to herself, and this moping thing clearly was getting old, fast. The stakes were too great to be a victim, not when it meant betraying her family.

"Tess."

She had to get out of here – she had to do something, and her emotions were getting in the way of her powers. Her hands clawed the handle of a broom that was inches from her body. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to seek out her attacker's face, but was unable to get past the shadows that marred it from view.

"Tess."

"Leave me alone." She shrieked, shooting up from the ground and whacking her attacker in the face. Her blue eyes grew wider as she watched him fall, relief rushing through her.

Except, it seemed too easy. They hadn’t given up, last time. And they’d be more than willing to use their powers in a school. They’d just kill anyone who witnessed the exchange. Glancing down at her would-be attacker, she blanched as she noticed the crop of sandy brown hair on his head.

Shit.

She had just **hit** Michael. All because she was being paranoid and stupid – maybe they had been right, getting her to agree would be easy, she was already hurting her friends, physically and emotionally.

No wonder Michael had run out on her. She was bad news, like pseudo-father figure like daughter, she mused. Uncertain what to do, she stood motionless as he came to, bracing herself for whatever barrage of insults he would sling her way.

"Damnit Tess that hurt!"

She nervously dragged a strand of hair between her fingers in an attempt to dim the thump of her heart beating wildly in her chest. She had really fucked this one up, and now he was going to think she was nuts.

"Are you okay?"

God, could she have sounded more pathetic if she tried? She’d just hit her friend – err ex-friend, since he totally wasn’t going to talk to her after hitting him like that – in the face. And all she could think of was to ask how he was after just bitching about how it hurt.

"Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” Michael asked her as he rubbed his face. She groaned as she looked at the red mark on his face – that was definitely going to leave a mark.

“Wh…What?” Tess stammered, finally registering what he’d said. He was asking her about _her_ well-being? Hadn’t they had this conversation already?

She brushed her hair back as he waved a hand over his face, his injury healing itself instantly. Well, at least he hadn’t asked her to heal it, she thought to herself, her insecurities once more bubbling to the surface.

What good was an alien that didn’t know how to control their powers, anyway?

“You look like shit."

His words cut through her thoughts and Tess felt the indignation rise within her. She did not look like shit, did she? And why did his appraisal mean anything to her? She’d just decided that she was bad for him, and he clearly wasn’t interested, so who cared what he thought, right?

Except, she kind of did.

"You're such a charmer." Her dry delivery caught him off guard, and for a second she saw something flickering underneath his cool exterior. She missed these moments, the ones where they acted like actual people, and weren’t trying to hide the fact that they felt things from the other.

"Whatever. We're ditching school."

"I'm fine." She stressed her words as she tried to move closer to the door, only to have him shift and block her exit.

Great, they were going to have this conversation, after all. With his wall up and her tolerance for his chauvinism was wearing thin.

"You hit me with a broom. You're not fine."

“And I’m sorry about that. But I have _class_."

"I don't care. You need to rest."

"Are you always this much of a Neanderthal?" She winced at her acrid tone, but she had barely gotten any rest in the past few days, and he was being a prime asshole. She may have hit him with a broom, but some unseen force had shoved her in here to begin with, and there was reason for alarm.

Not to mention, his brush off was one of the reasons that she _wasn’t_ sleeping -- even if she’d never tell him that.

"I’ll carry you out over my shoulder if you want."

Michael smirked at her and she glared in response. How dare he find this funny! He kissed her and then ran out and now all he could do was make fun of her. She didn’t need this, not from him. Her fragile pride was already taking a beating from thinking he was an attacker earlier, and now he was mocking her.

"I can walk." She spat, her gaze never leaving him. It was easier to stay mad at him than to entertain the notion that she had to eventually grapple with the feeling that Nicholas and the skins were everywhere.

"Why aren't you doing it then?"

He was infuriating, absolutely infuriating. The devilish look in his eye as he looked over her, the way that he refused to listen. She knew, deep down, that this was his way of being concerned, but it wasn’t helping. She was **fine** , she just wasn’t sleeping.

"Because I want to go to class."

"Since when do you care about school?"

Never before had she wanted to be normal, human. She’d valued her gifts, reveling in the things that made her different, made her Tess. But ever since she’d been attacked, had someone go through her head, her thoughts, she’d been praying for some sense of normalcy. And school was the closest that she’d get.

"Excuse me? You’re the one whose attendance record has improved by leaps and bounds lately."

She watched in triumph as the smirk faded from his face. Michael scratched his eyebrow and stared at her, probably thinking of something to say to her dig.

"Touché."

"So why are you really here Michael?" Tess asked as she hopped onto the small desk in the room, accepting that they weren’t going anywhere for the time being.

"Why are you?" Michael returned, his wall once more firmly in place and she groaned, sliding her feet back to the floor. She didn’t have time for this, not when her grades already were going to suck from the week of homework she didn’t finish.

"I'm not playing this game with you." She huffed in reply, her eyes wild as the rage bubbled up within her. This was about to degenerate into a warped esoteric philosophical discussion, something she wanted nothing to do with. And if she was having a crisis like that, she’d go to Kyle, reigning expert on all things philosophical and pornographic.

_Why am I here_ she rolled her eyes at his question. She tripped over something, and then fell into the room. Unless, he was seriously asking her what she was doing **here** in Roswell. And that, she couldn’t answer.

Max and Isabel trusted her even less now, Michael was avoiding her and the only person who cared about her was Kyle, who probably would be happier with his room back than he would with her staying in Roswell.

Maybe that was why he wouldn’t let her leave. He was going to read her the riot act. Tell her to pack her bags and go. Michael had reason to say that, they all did. She couldn’t even protect herself from the skins, from Nicholas; a man who wanted nothing more than all of them dead and a ticket home raised her. Destiny was her only tie to them, and they wanted nothing to do with it – and neither did she, not anymore.

"I’m serious. Do you even know what happened?"

“Yeah, I tripped and fell.”

Tess watched nervously as he mulled her answer over, the incredulous look never leaving his face. She hated when people looked at her like that, it made her feel stupid, a non-entity.

"Stop looking at me like I’m an idiot! I just haven’t been sleeping, ok?”

"I'm not... you haven't been sleeping?" He looked at her with genuine concern now, his guard gone, and it made her uncomfortable.

He was supposed to be asking her to leave Roswell, not looking at her like she was a person with feelings, that she still had value to him. This was a whole new level of weird, one that she was unsure that she wanted to participate in.

"These dark circles aren't for vanity." The sarcasm dripped from her mouth and she hoped that he’d take a step back. It was easier to keep people at arm’s length; it kept her from hurting them.

Plus, self-deprecation was the only way that she could think of to deal with her insanity. It would all make more sense after a good night’s sleep. Too bad she doubted that would happen anytime soon.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her face softened at his question and she felt the familiar sting of tears at the corner of her eye. Why was he being _nice_ to her? She hit him with a broom, he had rejected her the last time they’d talked, and now he was being nice again? Anger coursed through her as she steeled her features. He was part of the problem here, her sleepless mind argued and she needed to keep it that way.

"You. Running out on me. Ring a bell?"

"So that's what this is about?" Michael returned with that insufferable smirk of hers and she narrowed her gaze. He thought that she was some pathetic puppy who couldn’t handle rejection! How dare he!

"Don't flatter yourself. You weren't that good and it was only a matter of time, right? I was the only blonde in our little group you hadn't kissed."

"What?"

"You heard me." Tess spat as the bell rang overhead. Rolling her eyes as he continued to look at her dumbfounded by her assertiveness, she pushed past him and grasped the handle to the door.

"I'm going to class now. I already missed one today, and I’d rather not have it in writing that I’m a failure." She declared and opened the door, ignoring his dark eyes boring into her flesh.

She found her way into the throngs of students rushing to their next class, when she felt someone grab her arm. Spinning herself around, she met Michael’s warm gaze with steely resolve. He found her ear and leaned down and breathed four words that made her want to end this argument, but her pride wouldn’t let her. "This isn't over."

"Yeah, Michael, it is." She returned and tried to wrench herself out of his grasp as he pulled her to a dark corner of the hallway, which only served to have him pull her closer.

Inhaling sharply, she felt him grasp at the sides of her face and draw her in. Before she could register her next move, his lips were crushed against hers and any objection she had was gone.

Her body molded itself into his, needing to be closer to him, her heart beating wildly as his thick fingers entwined themselves with her hair. Their tongues clashed and they continued to kiss one another, oblivious to the stares and whispers of their classmates. Tess hissed as she felt his hips meet hers, his warmth a stark contrast from the cool metal of the lockers at her back.

She felt him shift against her, gently taking her bottom lip into his mouth, and she let out a grunt in response. Her dark eyes met his for a moment and she willed him to continue. She wanted this – the feeling of being desired, of feeling alive. “God, yes!” she moaned and pressed her puckered lips against his neck.

He let out a guttural moan in response to her ministrations and she paused for a moment to smile in the crook of his neck. Why was she fighting him before? She liked what she could be with him and she certainly liked what he could do to her.

She shifted her focus again, only to have him pull away. Bewildered, she brushed her matted hair off of her face as she tried to get her bearings. Why had he pulled away?

“Michael, what the…”

He smiled down at her and pointed to the bell that was ringing overhead. Had he seriously made out with her in the hallway? How could she be so stupid! He had a destiny; he had an ex-girlfriend who still wanted him. She was just some dumb girl with a crush and a lot of emotional problems.

Not to mention, after today an even more tarnished reputation.

“You can’t say I’m not good at this.” Michael replied – his ego more inflated than it had been in a while. And why shouldn’t it be? He _was_ a good kisser and a part of her was counting the seconds until she could do it again.

Not that he was going to hear about that.

“That… that is so not the point.”

God, could she be any more pathetic? It was the smirk, the damn smirk and the cocked eyebrow and the knowledge that his ruffled hair and wrinkled shirt were all her doing. And that turned her on, as much as she didn’t want it to.

She was supposed to be better than this. She was supposed to be a queen, not some sixteen-year-old girl who loved to see what her little bit of sexual prowess could do to a man.

Not just any man, she mused silently, Michael Guerin – sexiest hybrid on earth and kisser extraordinaire.

She was done for, and he totally knew it.

“Yeah, the point is you’re not dealing with being kidnapped.”

What? Why were they back on this, again? She’d said she was fine and he kissed her and that was the end of it, as far as she was concerned. Time to show him just how articulate she could be, how little of a victim she truly was, underneath it all.

“No, the point is that you… you do _that_ and…”

…all I can think about is how much I want you. Tess thought to herself as she tried to calm the emotions that were rolling around within her. This was quickly going from the most perfect moment of her life to most awkward, and she couldn’t think of a way to make this better.

“And?”

“This is pathetic, Michael. I’m supposed to be with Max and you’re supposed to be with Isabel. And this,” she paused, waving her hands between the two of them for emphasis. “Is not supposed to happen in the hallway.”

“Ditch school with me then.”

He made it seem easy. That they could just go and leave school and work out all their problems, and she wanted to believe him.

“Michael.”

“We need to talk more than you need to practice how to sleep with your eyes open.”

He was right, plus he said that they were going to talk, which maybe meant there would be a resolution to whatever they were doing together. And she really didn’t want to hear about the gossip surrounding her at lunch today.

“You’re insufferable.” She huffed as a smile danced across her face. He gave her a half grin in response before leading her out of the classroom and to a playground nearby.

Tess walked toward the swings and sat down before brushing her hair back into a low ponytail. She was sick of it billowing around her face and marring her view of Michael’s face, plus it gave her more time to collect herself before they had to actually talk about whatever it was they were going to talk about.

Her feet dangled close to the ground as she slid her body back and forth, playfully grinning at Michael, who was still standing in front of her, not wanting to move. She loved playgrounds, the carefree feeling was contagious and it made her forget all her problems.

Like her time with Nicholas and her current situation with Michael, who did not seem to share her momentary free-wheeling spirit. Frowning, she pursed her lips and stopped propelling herself forward, inviting him instead to join her on the swing next to hers.

“So… talk.” Tess drawled as he took a seat in the swing next to hers. She bit back a smile as he scowled, trying to find his balance. He could be so adorable when he was frustrated, she ruminated as her cheeks flushed and her brain drifted to their make out session earlier.

“This is awkward.” Michael huffed as his body fell backward slightly and she stifled a laugh. Tess couldn’t tell if he was talking about sitting on the swing or about their inability to have a meaningful discussion lately.

“You think?”

Sarcasm was her crutch, the way to add something to a conversation without saying much of anything at all. And it was working now, when she really couldn’t gage what Michael wanted to talk about

“Why aren’t you sleeping, Tess?” Michael asked her as he jerked himself upright, the swing clearly made for children and not people of his stature.

“Don’t you think that’s pretty self explanatory?” Tess huffed, feeling vulnerable. She didn’t want to have this conversation and the quickest way out of it was to insult him until he got tired. She had very few thoughts of her own lately, and she didn’t want those last few to be shared. Plus it was no big deal, she lied, she was just scared of Nicholas coming to get her in her sleep and make good on his threat. She’d be fine; it was just a matter of getting her bearings back.

“Hostility doesn’t suit you, Harding.”

Damn. Why did he have to look at her like he knew she was giving him the brush off? People never used to care when she lashed out, why was he changing the stakes? It made her uncomfortable. Although a part of her just wanted to admit her fears to him, too many years of guarding her emotions made her wary.

“What do you want from me? I’ve been dragged from school because we needed to talk, and all you can say is ‘this is awkward.’ I’m allowed to be annoyed, Michael. I didn’t ditch for stating the obvious 101.”

She cringed as his face fell and she silently wished she could take some of it back. She did appreciate his effort, but she hated looking like she was the victim here. She just wanted to be treated like she was normal – like she was on the same footing with him as Max and Isabel.

“Fine.”

She scowled at his rebuff only to shrug it off seconds later. It wasn’t worth it to her to act hurt when he was respecting her wishes, in his own way. Shifting her weight, she stared at him, her blue eyes focused and well aware of what she had to do – ask the question that neither of them wanted to broach.

“Michael why did you kiss me?” She questioned, suddenly developing an interest in the wet sand beneath her feet.

“To shut you up.” He returned with a grin and she glared at him, only to have her lips turn upwards into a smile seconds later. He flashed her an awkward grin and she felt the laughter bubble up within her. This was just… so _weird_.

“No, jerk, the first time.” She teased, now twisting her body from side to side in the swing in an attempt to ease her nerves.

“Because.” Michael replied with a shrug and she rolled her eyes. Clearly he wanted to have this conversation about as much as she wanted to talk about how she wasn’t sleeping.

Too bad she was going to force the issue – if only for her own sanity.

“In full sentences please.”

“You sound like my English teacher.”

“Consider this the lesson you won’t be getting in class today.”

“Are you going to wear a catholic school uniform and spank me with a ruler if I don’t answer?” Michael leered, swinging himself closer to her.

How was he able to turn an innocent conversation into something, well, not? It threw her off her game, and she was not one to concede the upper hand. Except with him, which was so not fair.

"Just answer the question,” she sighed as she tried to get a handle on her nerves.

Michael was quiet for a second and she felt her stomach do summersaults as he continued to stare at her with his honeyed eyes. This was the moment of truth, she knew it, he was going to say it was a mistake and that she should leave him alone, or worse, leave Roswell. That he was just trying to comfort her the best way he knew how, and he didn’t want her, not the way she wanted him.

“It seemed like a good idea.”

That was it? It seemed like a good idea? What idiot planet did he fall off of – it was totally not the one that she came from. Seeming like a good idea never came into the equation.

In fact it had seemed like a bad idea, no, a terrible idea that she wanted to engage in over and over and over again.

She opened her mouth only to close it again. Her throat was tightening as she ran through what he had said again. The bottom line was – he didn’t want her. Not now, not then, not ever.

“I…” She stammered, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. She jerked her body forward in an attempt to get out of the swing that had tangled itself from her tracing circles in the ground, only to find herself locked in place. And she didn’t want to chance letting the swing spin itself out right now – she knew that she’d wind up throwing up.

She felt his gaze fall on her again and she bit down on her lip, determined to get out of there. She didn’t need his pity, not when she was the idiot who had dared to hope he felt the same way she did. Using all the strength that she could muster, she propelled her body out of the knotted swing and felt her body fall forward, yelping as she hit the caked earth beneath her.

Angrily, she banged her fists into the sand as the tears she had been so desperate to hide fell in earnest. No shit Michael didn’t want her, she was the idiot who fell in the sand and cried the second things got rough – or embarrassing. She was an idiot, just like she had always been, and now he had all the evidence he would ever need to prove that fact.

“Shit, Tess, are you okay?” Michael asked her as she pushed herself up from the ground. Hiccupping as her tears continued to fall, she simply shook her head no and bristled as his arms wrapped themselves around her lithe body.

She started to shake as tears continued to wreck havoc on her body. If her fall had been embarrassing – this was on a whole other level. The guy who had just rejected her was now giving her comfort because he had no idea what else to do.

She was totally becoming that damsel in distress who needed to be rescued. And that made her feel even worse.

“What’s wrong?”

She mulled over his question as she stared at him in disbelief. What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Well, Michael, first of all you rejected me, then I fell flat on my face, then I burst into tears, she thought to herself as she bit back the next bout of angry tears that threatened to fall.

“Nothing, Michael, nothing.” Tess replied and detangled herself from his arms. He didn’t need to be play nice with her, not when he’d already said that he had no interest.

“Bullshit.” Michael called after her.

Spinning around, she marched back toward him, her blue eyes wild with fury. He didn’t get to talk to her like that, not when he was the one who had caused her latest embarrassment. She wasn’t Maria Deluca; she wasn’t going to take it from him.

“Excuse me?” Tess screamed balling her hands into fists as she stared up at him, unable to focus through her watery gaze. “You were the one who just rejected me and I just fell flat on my ass, so I’d ask you spare the last bit of dignity I have and not talk to me like I’m incapable of feeling.”

She inhaled, “I’m already not sleeping because I’m fucking afraid that they’re going to come, I’d rather not have to worry about being played by you too.” Tess caught him try to get a word in and she shot him a glare, willing him to shut up. “You said it yourself, it _seemed like a good idea_. Am I that easy? Is that my fucking reputation in Roswell? Call Tess for a good time – here’s her number. Michael, you’re supposed to be my damn friend – my **only** friend. God!”

Her face was red by now, she could feel the heat of her skin against the cool air and the sting of her tears flowing down her face, but she needed to say this. It was the only way to get any of her pride back. “I liked you Michael, I legitimately liked you, and…” she trailed off, her voice fading behind her sobs.

“Tess you deserve better than me.”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Michael’s eyes pleaded with her not to leave and Tess exhaled, indicating that she would wait for him to finish before leaving. More because she was tired than she gave a fuck what he had to say.

“I’m not good at this shit. Evans is the one who has the flowery language and the chocolates. But I do like you – even if I can’t make it sound nice. And yeah, kissing you seemed like a good idea, because it fucking was, Tess. You’re the first person who gets me – or at least tries to get me. And I just fucked it all up. But if you want to try, whatever this is, I’m game.”

“I’m an idiot.” Tess sighed as she stepped into his outstretched arms, content to just be held.

“No, you’re not. You’re tired.”

“Yes, I am.” Tess answered, stifling a yawn, not really sure if she was refuting his first statement or agreeing with his second. “So we’re dating?”

“Yeah.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are to "Fool in the Rain" by Led Zeppelin

_And the warmth of your smile starts a-burnin  
And the thrill of your touch gives me fright  
And I’m shaking so much, really yearning  
Why don’t you show up, make it all right?_

Michael shifted uncomfortably as he waited for Max to finish talking with Liz. He wasn’t eager to talk to him, but given that he was the resident romantic of the group, there really was no alternative. Max would ask fewer questions than Isabel, and even if he did figure it out, he’d probably be elated. Not that he was going to tell him.

Tess and he hadn’t talked about boundaries, hadn’t really talked about any sort of rules since that conversation two days ago. In fact they hadn’t done a lot of talking – a lot of kissing, yes, but not a lot of talking.

Not that he minded. In fact, he preferred it.

But Tess thought that they should go on a real date. And somehow he had relented, her lips, swollen from their previous kissing, and her disheveled hair had played a role in it.

So had the threat of no more make-out sessions.

Which was why he was here, in the back room of the Crashdown. Max and Liz looked like they were almost done with whatever they were doing now. He tried not to think about it or classify it in any way. In fact – the Max and Liz melodrama was what he was trying to avoid.

Except, he wanted to have some broad accept him. Well, not just any broad, Tess. It was ironic, he wanted to run away from Maria and their… whatever, but he was running to Max for relationship advice.

Proof that he wasn’t, as Maria so willingly put it, relationship challenged.

He hated that he did this, dwelled on Maria’s criticisms of their relationships, almost as if they foretold failure for him and Tess. Or any relationship, really. But when it came to his actions, he often acted first, then thought about the results later – suffering in silence. Isabel had told him once that he was too hard on himself, and while he might agree, he couldn’t help it – too many years of verbal abuse and a genetic predisposition toward military strategy had shaped this part of him.

He really doubted it would change. At least Tess wasn’t still berating him for his lack of flowery language, or that she had to ask him out. Soft teasing, yes, but she wasn’t being a harpy about it.

Clawing at his eyebrow his scowl grew deeper, he watched as Parker molded herself into Max. Turning away, he folded his arms across his chest as his annoyance grew. They certainly weren’t wasting any time; in fact, it looked like that stupid Gomez concert had worked to Evans’ advantage.

Of course, Evans getting some meant that he wasn’t going to get his for a little while longer. Or, even worse, he’d have to hear about all the details. Why was he even doing this? He wasn’t Max, he didn’t use flowery language, didn’t believe in soulmates, hell he didn’t even like PDA. Anything that Max would tell him probably wouldn’t be of any use.

He shifted his body, turning to leave, only to catch a better glimpse of Liz Parker. Her shirt was off and Max’s hands were buried under the waistband of her jeans, holding her firmly against him as they continued to make out. Groaning, he noticed the sly half smile and the knowing look in her eye as she expertly lifted his shirt off of his body.

Max Evans certainly wasn’t a virgin anymore. And this was his cue to leave. Great, another few hours wasted.

But, as he made his way out of the restaurant, what he realized was, more than anything else, what he noticed about the two of them was how they just worked. He wanted that, and he wanted it with Tess.

Yeah, he wasn’t about flowers and chocolates, but neither was she. Sure she had a slight need for fantasy, probably because of all the fairytale bullshit Nasedo fed her, but so what. She got him, and he’d make sure that he’d do right by her – even if it meant dates, real dates, in public.

With renewed determination, he started his motorcycle, gripping the handles as he raced down the open road to Valenti’s house. He hoped she didn’t mind the bike, her car was still in the shop, another reminder of what had happened to her on Isabel’s birthday.

He reached the doorway and waved a hand over the lock, not really wanting to deal with Kyle or the Sheriff giving him a hard time, and entered. Plus, what good were powers if you didn’t use them, once in a while?

“Tess?” Michael called out in a greeting. His whole plan rested on one thing – that she was home, and if she wasn’t, well, then, he didn’t exactly have a plan B.

He smirked as she stepped out from the bathroom, her hair tied up loosely in a haphazard bun. There was a toothbrush in her left hand, and a suspicious look in her eye. If it was anyone else, he would feel uncomfortable and awkward, but with her, he just felt nervous.

“Michael? What are you doing?” Tess questioned, her right arm finding her hip as she stared at him expectantly.

God she was so hot when she was undone. He sighed, scratching his eyebrow as he continued to stare at her. She was starting to get pissed – he knew that shift well, from his dealings with Maria and Isabel. He had to say something.

“We’re going out.” Michael declared, his pronouncement hanging in the air for a moment as he stared at the slightly wrinkled pink t-shirt that hung loosely off of her small frame and her tight jeans. Why was he acting like this? He was Michael Guerin, he didn’t get hung up on some girl. This was Maxwell’s department.

“I know, we had this conversation, remember? Screaming, crying, kissing – it was only two days ago.”

She was mocking him. He’d agreed to this date shit and she was mocking him. And with that incredibly sexy half smile of hers. Cursing he mused that between the bed hair, wrinkled clothes and the smirk, she certainly was getting a rise out of him.

“Funny.”

Finally, that damn smirk was gone. But now she just looked confused, he could deal with that, as long as little Michael wasn’t on the ready. He was sure that Tess didn’t want to see ole one-eye. He already sucked at romance, he didn’t need any additional help from his errant hormones.

“Thanks, I think. So, what’s up?”

“We’re going out.” Michael reiterated, watching as Tess nodded awkwardly in agreement. She wasn’t getting it. Great, he had to say the d-word. “You know, on a date.”

“Oh? Oh.” Tess answered, the shock in her voice was sincere, but she wasn’t annoyed at his flubbed delivery. If it were Maria, he was sure that he’d be bracing for a long diatribe on woman’s lib. And while he knew that Tess was a fan of Betty Freidan, at least she wasn’t going to lecture him on the finer points of the feminine mystique.

Thank god.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean, when do you want to go?” She was smiling at him now, her hand had slipped from her hip into the back pocket of her jeans and she was leaning into him. God – if she only knew how much her genuine innocence was making him hot.

“Now would be nice.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Why was she looking at him like he was an idiot? This was what she had wanted, a date, and he was doing it, without much protest. It was mostly because he wanted to go back to making out with her, but also because he did genuinely like being around her.

“No.”

She was frowning, trying to stifle an awkward laugh from escaping from her mouth. She thought he was an idiot – great.

“Michael, I mean, this is sweet, but. I mean, I don’t have a ton of experience here, but you know, there usually is like, planning. And fretting over what to wear, and like, makeup.”

She looked fine. Natural, happy. He liked that her hair was loose and not in the tight curls she usually wore, it made her seem less afraid, less uptight. She didn’t need that garbage. If he were a different guy, he’d be able to find the words to tell her just how beautiful she looked.

But instead he found himself tongue-tied for a moment before finally blurting out his reply. “I thought you were the one who wanted to go out on a real date.”

“I do! But, I’m not _dressed_.” She stressed the last word, waving her hands over her clothes for emphasis. He forced down the urge to roll his eyes at her – this was dumb. She wanted a date, he wanted to make out with her, and a goes before b.

“Uh, Harding, hate to break it to you, but you’re certainly not naked.”

Tess rolled her eyes at his reply. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

_Yes_. The single word answer bounced around his head as he smirked at her. Tess’ blue eyes met his in a pointed look before softening to a grin.

“Don’t answer that.”

He opened his mouth to reply, only to see her grip her hair as she began to shift her weight from one side to the other.

“I just mean, I’m not dressed for a _date_.”

He bit back the laugh that threatened to bubble up within him at her indignation. Hadn’t she got it by now that he really didn’t care what she wore? Instead he drew her close to him and noticed as the air shifted between them.

Lowering his head, his lips grazed hers and he smirked as her eyes opened once more, this time much more self-assured than she had been before. “You look fine.”

He watched as she lifted an eyebrow in a challenge and pursed her lips. He was certain that she was thinking, trying to dig up a sarcastic rejoinder to his moment of levity.

“You look good, Tess. Can we go?”

“Ok.”

Her lack of protest made him stop for a moment, only for his dark eyes to meet her light ones. There was no doubt lurking behind her gaze, only excitement, and he couldn’t help but give her a half smile in reply.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’re taking your motorcycle, right?”

“Your car is still in the shop.” His response was a bit rushed, hoping that she wasn’t going to back out now. They hadn’t ridden the motorcycle since her accident and he hoped that wouldn’t be a deterrent.

“I wasn’t arguing, I was just asking.” Tess asserted as he fished his pockets for the keys.

“Sorry, it’s just…you know.” He drawled, trying to find something that didn’t make a reference to either Maria or his accident. He was defensive because Maria would have fought him on this, and because Tess had only been attacked a few weeks ago.

“I know, and I think it’s sweet, but I’m fine, really.” Tess answered before he said anything else. Her shy smile pricked at the corners of her mouth as she slid her small fingers into his, dragging him outside, into the warm autumn night.

His breath caught in his throat as the full moon glistened in the background, light found her blonde locks and produced an almost ethereal glow. How could she ever say that she wasn’t _dressed_ or prepared for some date? She was stunning and her hand fit perfectly in his.

He wasn’t one for those kinds of romantic thoughts, but it was hard to ignore when she was touching him.

With a wink and a nod, Michael handed her the extra helmet before mounting the bike. Tess followed suit, her small body molding into his back as her hands circled his waist. He loved this, the feel of her body rubbing against him as he raced down the open road.

Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived. He pulled off of the road and into the parking lot of the only Italian place in town. La Stella di Terra was more upscale than Señor Chow’s, the Crash or Cheese Encounters and it was definitely more appropriate for a date.

Not to mention that he knew Tess was a fan of Italian food.

“You coming?” He asked, as Tess stood rooted in place, obviously hesitant about something.

“Uh, yeah.” Tess mumbled, standing immobile as her eyes watched the well-dressed patrons mill in and out. She wanted to say something, but was unsure. He hated this false shyness.

“What?” He sighed, idly scratching his eyebrow.

“Michael, I think we’re a little under dressed.”

Tess was twirling a strand of her golden hair between her fingers now, her other hand awkwardly resting on the hem of her shirt. She was definitely being ridiculous. So she wasn’t in a dress? This wasn’t some fucking ball, this was just dinner, and he was getting hungry.

“Women.”

He began walking toward the restaurant, hoping that she would follow his lead. As far as he was concerned, the worst that would happen would be a withering look, and if they did that, then, no tip. Problem solved.

“Machismo gets you nowhere.”

Tess huffed, catching up to him. Her hair haphazardly framing her face, thanks to the wind. He only wondered what she’d say if she noticed that – she normally wasn’t like this, and hoped that this wouldn’t be something that she picked up as a habit.

“Good thing I’m not Mexican.”

“You know we’re supposed to be a superior species, right?” She replied, her eyes dancing mischievously as she stared up at him.

“It’s the human side that’s ruined me.” Michael shot back before adding, “Now if you’re not going to go to dinner with me, you can get back to the kitchen and bake me a pie.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. We’re at the baked goods stage? Must have missed the memo.”

“I like apple pie best.” Michael stated as he wrapped an arm protectively around her, his palm resting openly against her waist as he guided her toward the entrance.

“I’m happy for you, really,” she deadpanned, feigning annoyance.

Michael frowned, noticing the sign on the door. This was fantastic. Fan-fucking-tastic. His plan was screwed up once more, this time thanks to some overpaid country club members.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Restaurant closed due to private function. Fuck!” Michael exclaimed, wrenching his hand from her body. He couldn’t believe it. Another failure by Michael Guerin.

“It’s okay.”

Michael didn’t even hear her over the maelstrom of self-inflicted insults that were whirling around in his head. This was the one thing that he had wanted to do right – and he’d fucked that up. First, he had insisted that they go just like they were dressed, much to Tess’ chagrin, then when they got here, the restaurant was fucking closed to anyone without a big wallet.

“Damn it, this is the one nice restaurant in Roswell.”

He felt her hand on his shoulder and he stilled as he met her gaze. She wasn’t pissed at him; in fact, she looked determined, and a little touched at his indignation. He never would understand women.

“So? We can still have fun.”

He wondered if she was just trying to be nice, to fake like she wasn’t pissed. It was highly likely, she wasn’t as outward with her disaproval as Maria or Isabel, but there was something else she was trying to say. Not to mention that there really wasn’t much else going on. It was Roswell and it was already 7:45.

“Uh, doing what Tess? It’s Roswell.”

“We could go bowling.”

What the fuck? Had he just entered the twilight zone? He’d dragged her out for dinner at a nice restaurant. He had waited around in the Crash for no reason except to try to get relationship advice from Max. He had witnessed Liz Parker and her lace bra, which, by itself wasn’t bad, but he’d also seen Max in the heat of the moment! All to go fucking bowling.

Not that bowling was that bad. He could help her with her throw, his hands all over her body, helping to guide her swing – this had definite possibilities. But, seriously? Bowling?

“Bowling? What happened to wanting a real date?”

“Yes bowling!” Tess exclaimed, her excitement building at the prospect. “What I meant by having a real date was like, doing something with you that didn’t involve your couch. You don’t need to blow thirty bucks on some dinner for me.”

Michael paused, trying to come up with a response to that. He wasn’t about to bare his heart to her or tell her that it was humbling to know that she really just wanted time with him. Instead, he focused on the second half of her reply.

“I thought you were a feminist.”

“So?”

“Who said I was paying.”

He caught her pointed glare and her annoyed posture. But instead of apologizing, Michael started to laugh. And she joined him, their voices joining together in boisterous fits of laughter as he held her close.

Waiting to catch his breath, he felt Tess collapse against him, her blonde hair splaying across his chest. His arms encircled her waist as he stared down at her. The more he thought about the feel of her in his arms, the more this bowling thing sounded like a great plan.

“So, where’s the bowling alley?”

She shifted against him, but didn’t untangle herself from his grasp. Raising a well-manicured finger Tess pointed at something behind her. He turned his head to follow her movement, noticing the garish pins glowing in the moonlight. Why hadn’t he noticed it before?

“Right across the street. C’mon.” Tess answered, slipping her hand in his and leading him toward the building. This dating thing wasn’t so bad after all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are to “Organeum” by Girls in Hawaii

_Don't go away from me  
Don't go away from here  
I had not enough  
I know we're not ready  
Our things are not easy  
Oh not easy  
_

The meeting went off without argument. In fact, the eight of them had worked quite well together, when they’d all heeded her advice to _settle the personal crap on their own time._ Of course, that was because most people were staring at her with questions in their eyes – no doubt privy to the rumors that had been running around school since she and Michael had made out in the hallway last week.

Had it only been last week?

Pressing her fingers to her lips, she couldn’t stop the smile from dancing across her face. It had been the best week of her life. Tess just hoped it would continue when they got back from Copper Summit.

Lips turning downward for a moment, her blue eyes sought out Michael, who was standing in the corner, nodding every so often while Max droned on. He was so cute when he was bored.

He was so cute, period. Err – hot. Or both.

She bit her bottom lip as he gave her a predatory look – definitely hot.

It was probably better that he was staying here – investigating Courtney. Maria and Liz had really come through with that lead – they’d caught the blonde skank leaving dried skin behind. At first, the two of them had just thought it was the paint peeling, but when Michael had pressed them – the four of them had come to a solid conclusion.

She liked that she was a part of that deduction. That her simple line of questioning as to schedules and who was on duty whenever the dried skin appeared had proven one thing.

Courtney was not to be trusted.

So, now Maria, Kyle, Alex and Michael were going to stay in Roswell. Michael to investigate Courtney, the three humans to stay out of harm’s way, while she, Max, Isabel and Liz, because she was their in with Whittaker’s family, went to Arizona – she didn’t like being without Michael, but she would be okay.

As long as she didn’t run into Nicholas – who knew, he might be waiting for her in Arizona – he’d been a more than willing participant in her capture.

Shivering at the thought, she ran her hands over her arms, willing herself to ward off the fear that was creeping over her. She was strong, she could do this – and the 7 of them were counting on her. She could do this, couldn’t she?

_Weak, Tess, weak_ she thought as she forced an errant curl from her face. She was a fighter – she could do this. And he probably wouldn’t be there anyway. Why was she doing this? Emotions were for the weak. She was strong.

She was – still reciting the bullshit that Nasedo taught her.

“Fuck,” she whispered, forcing back tears as she began to pace, willing no one to notice her distress. This was fine – it was a little creepy how the Universal Friendship League had behaved on the phone, but maybe they were just a cult or something. Nothing to fear but fear itself – right? Wasn’t that what JFK said?

And JFK was a good President.

Except that he was assassinated.

Blanching, she stood still as mulled that thought. She could die, she could die, she could be kidnapped and kill everyone.

Why had she agreed to this again?

She stiffened as she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and another one guiding her chin upward, until she met Michael’s concerned gaze. If only he could hold her closer – if only they were out in the open, she could really use his arms around her right now.

Ugh, when had she become such a sap? And why didn’t she care that much about it?

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Michael asked her, and she found herself nodding. She would be okay. She would be fine.

In fact, she had to do this. Try to reclaim some of her dignity, her independence – even if she was scared out of her mind. Tess couldn’t let Nicholas control her every move, if she did then he had already won – even before he’d taken control of her mind, like he’d threatened to do.

“I’ll be okay, Michael. I have to do this, for myself.”

It was the honest truth. She needed to do this – it wasn’t something she’d asked for, nor was it something that she wanted, but she had to start taking charge of her own life again. She’d spent too long wrapped up in destiny, and just when she was beginning to break away – create her own future – Nicholas had made her change course again, taking her independence from her, if only for a little while.

She was going to go with Isabel, Max and Liz and she was going to be fine. Better than fine, she was after all, a great actress. She was going to be great. She was going to be a part of the team. And then, when they got home after realizing that the Friendship League was some silly organization that had nothing to do with aliens or Antar or stupid, manipulative skins, she was going to find her boyfriend and make out. Lots and lots of making out.

“Tess, you ready?” Liz asked, interrupting her train of thought. And she blinked, realizing that Michael was still touching her and the scene they were probably causing. Fantastic.

Oh well, it was another thing that was going to have to come out, when they all got back home.

She simply met the curious eyes of the brunette and nodded, mouthing a plea for one more moment with Michael. Which, surprisingly, was met with a nod of acquiescence.

Had that just happened? Was Liz okay with this? What the hell?

“Be careful – okay?” Michael whispered, his voice husky and his eyes filled with unsaid words and emotions.

God, she couldn’t wait to get back to Roswell. The concern that he was showing her without saying anything – the looks that he was giving her – it made her feel loved. Wanted.

Like she mattered.

“You too.” Tess whispered, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked up at him with unshed tears. He was doing something dangerous, legitimately dangerous, in going after Courtney – and while she had no doubt of his abilities, she knew just how powerful the skins could be.

And what if he never came back?

Ugh, she couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t. Michael would be fine, she would be fine, and then they’d be fine – together. But the nervousness wasn’t going away, neither was her concern.

Was this what love felt like?

Oh god, she hoped not. They’d only been dating a week.

One week.

Too soon for these thoughts. Way, way too soon. But, she still wasn’t sure what else to make of it – probably concern. That was it. Genuine concern for someone that she cared about – and obviously she didn’t want anything to happen to Michael.

Man, she wanted to kiss him right now. For good luck. For anything. But everyone was watching and they had to go and do their respective duty. And no one knew about them yet.

Damn it, why couldn’t anything be easy?

Reaching for his hand, she took it in hers, squeezing it in earnest. She then lifted their clasped hands to her mouth, placing a soft kiss to his skin, willing no one else to see. Blue met brown and she willed him to see the promise of later reflected in her gaze.

She had faith in him, in herself, nervousness or love or whatever be damned. Without another word, she headed outside and hopped into the jeep, taking her seat next to Liz Parker.

It was game time.

\--

They found Courtney’s apartment without much trouble. It’d only taken a quick look through Mr. Parker’s paperwork on the girl to find her address – and there they were. In the dark, under the stars, about to enter Courtney’s place.

Not exactly how he wanted to spend his Friday night.

He wanted to be with Tess – on his couch, pretending to watch a movie but mostly watching her and making out. He was going soft. And he kind of liked it.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

But Tess had a job to do – and so did he. Why Maria was here was anyone’s guess. But she had helped him find the employment records and she had a car – two things that were critical so far.

“Michael! I feel like we're Scully and Mulder or something.” Maria stated as she took the proffered flashlight and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her.

Everything he was just thinking about Maria being useful? Pointless if she couldn’t keep her trap shut.

“Shhh. Would you shut up?”

“Ok,” Maria huffed. Why she couldn’t just nod was beyond him. If Tess were here – he wouldn’t be this agitated.

Mostly because he wouldn’t be investigating Courtney while worried about what was going on in Arizona. But, still, she wasn’t helping matters any.

“Nobody's home,” he grunted, unlocking the door and rolling his eyes as Maria went off in another direction, away from him.

He heard the tell tale sign of plastic meeting plastic as Maria’s flashlight illuminated some CDs. “Culture Club? Wham? The Backstreet Boys? God, she really is an alien, this one.”

He scratched his eyebrow as he forced back the urge to laugh. Maria was at least able to laugh about this – something that was sort of keeping his mind off of the danger that Tess was in, at the moment. But not solving the Courtney mystery, which could, of course, help Tess. “A little help here?”

He heard Maria throw down the CDs and march over to him. And, if he actually bothered to look at her, he was sure she’d be shooting daggers at him.

“Fine. What are we looking for?”

What are we looking for? What was she? Blonde? Oh right. “Clues? You know...an address book or a calendar somewhere.”

Ugh and he needed to find a new insult. Tess was blonde – and she was smart, smarter than him, definitely. And Maria wasn’t that stupid, really. She was just, Maria. And from his brief time as her boyfriend – he knew that she liked to play stupid to mask her intelligence – to try to fit in.

Something that he thought was retarded, but he wasn’t a girl. And if he were a girl, he certainly would not act like Maria.

“Of course. Like she's going to write her hideout in an address book, oh ho!” Maria mocked, her hands finding her hips as her annoyance shown through. She was sarcastic and fiery, two things that he had liked about her – things that he loved about Tess.

The two of them would probably get along – if Maria didn’t get psycho when she found out about the two of them.

And as much as he liked the mental image of two hot chicks fighting over him, something told him that Maria wouldn’t fight fair – and Tess couldn’t handle that right now.

Soft. He was going fricking soft.

“Hey, are you just gonna rag on me or are you gonna help?”

“Eww, ohmigod.”

_Women_ Michael groaned – she probably saw a spider or something. “What?”

“Scratch the probably a skin – she totally is one! Ugh, I hate this stuff!! It's so gross! Eww!” Maria whined holding the dried skin up for emphasis, before it turned to dust. She was forcing back tears as she swatted his shoulder – trying to wipe off the residue. Something told him that Liz had been the one holding the skin in the Crashdown.

Michael rolled his eyes as she continued to wipe her hands on his shirt. Like he really was that excited to have Courtney-residue on his clothes. But whatever. At least they were back to searching now.

And he was that much closer to solving the Nicholas problem. He reached for something when he heard it – a loud, piercing scream that he was sure would raise the entire neighborhood.

Maria Deluca, queen of subtlety.

But shit – she might be in danger. This wasn’t good. He turned, running toward her, noticing how tense she looked and the wide-eyed genuine fear reflected in her gaze. This definitely was not good.

His eyes left her for a moment, catching sight of what she was looking at. Jesus fucking Christ. This was something out of one of those fucked up movies where the girl is so obsessed with the guy that she up and kills him – thinking that if they’re alone, then they’ll be fine.

Fuck that shit, he’d kill her first. Especially since she was a skin, and he wasn’t going to let one of those things get close to his friends – allow them to do what they did to Tess to anyone else.

“That's the shirt I lost at work. What the hell is this?”

He knew what the hell it was. He wasn’t fucking stupid – it was just really ridiculous. And he was scared. It seemed that Tess wasn’t the only alien that they were obsessed with now.

“It's Graceland...and you're Elvis.” Maria replied, her own words masking her fear.

This was nuts. This was not happening. Not only did Tess have an alien that wanted to take control of her mind – he had a fucking alien stalker that would probably kill Tess when she found out about them. Not to mention Maria – who would probably kill them both.

Why was his life so fucking complicated?

“Wow.” It was all he could say. Three letters – that was all that was coming out of his mouth on the matter. His thoughts were another story entirely.

“Wow? Is that all you can say right now, is "wow"? She's obsessed with you. She's, like, an alien stalker. She's been spying on you for weeks. She's been dreaming about you, fantasizing about you...”

Ugh – she was not helping. In fact – as she continued to ramble, he couldn’t help but stare at the pictures, willing there to be no evidence of Tess.

But, yet again – his hopes were dashed. Wait. Fuck. No. Really?

Maybe something good was coming out of this weird fucked up fangirl wall of him after all.

“Hey, shut up for a second. Take a look at the pictures. They were all shot from the apartment across the street from my building.”

“So? Oh! That's where she goes to spy on you.” Maria interjected her excitement growing as she realized just what he was seeing – and by extension the gears turning in his head.

“Yep,” Michael nodded, his left hand clawing at his eyebrow, quickly formulating a plan of attack. He wasn’t about to let Courtney get away – not when Tess was in Arizona, tracing down leads on who, exactly, covered up that Congresswoman’s death for them. And especially not when Courtney might be the key to it all.

“Ohh,” Maria drawled, like a light bulb going off. He then felt her grip on his arm, dragging him out of the apartment and back to the jetta. Blondie was finally getting it – and he liked it.

Now if only she continued to be assertive and accepting and willing to help after she found out about Tess – they’d be all set.

\--

The car ride was long and boring – filled with minimal chatter and lots of awkward silence. They were supposed to be a team, but they couldn’t even begin to talk like civilized people.

She supposed she had a hand in that. But Max and Liz were on the mend – and the meeting had gone well.

And now they were here, in Copper Summit, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. It had started with that random comment about a harvest – it sounded familiar, like she should know what it was, but she couldn’t quite grasp it. And now Max and Isabel had gone to talk to the Friendship League crazies and she and Liz were in the car.

And Liz looked like she wanted to say something.

God damn it.

“I just um, want to tell you Tess, that Max and I are back together.” Liz announced, shifting slightly in her seat as she brushed a strand of brown hair off her face.

Ugh, why did Liz think that she would care? Oh right, destiny.

“I’m happy for you, honestly.” Tess answered, a genuine smile playing across her face, which the other girl returned with a confused look in her eye. “I’ve been meaning to apologize to you for you know – everything. I just didn’t know better, at the time.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

Ugh – was she always this selfless? And what was she supposed to say to that? Fucking Nasedo, never teaching her how to do the normal, sane, humane thing. _Maybe because he was trying to make your transition to evil-Tess easier_ , she thought to herself.

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry – for everything. You and Max are so much better suited for each other than Max and me. I realize that now.”

God that felt weird to say. And if she didn’t have Michael, she never would have admitted it. But she did have Michael and he was great. Everything she wanted.

“Thanks, Tess. Um… friends?”

“Yeah, friends.” She answered as Liz wrapped her arms awkwardly around her shoulders – a gesture that she returned before smiling again. She could use another friend – a girlfriend to share tampons and ice cream and gossip and stories with. Things that she and Michael couldn’t share.

“So what’s up with you and Michael?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. What was she supposed to say? Maria was Liz’s best friend. But she’d resolved to out her relationship – and this was a perfect opportunity.

“He’s great, he’s been really…great.”

Ugh. Tess – you’re the one who loves English, and all you can say is that he’s great? Why not wonderful, fantastic, a perfect boyfriend? Her mind was racing with reprimands and silent rebukes to her more than lame response.

“Great, huh?” Liz teased, a knowing look in her eye. But at least she wasn’t glaring at her – yet.

“Yeah, um, we’re dating. He’s – you know…” Tess drawled, waving her hands emphatically as the other girl continued to stare at her in obvious amusement. There was something up – definitely. She’d imagined telling the others a thousand times, and this was definitely not how she imagined Liz Parker reacting.

“Great?” Liz supplied with a grin and a wink.

Tess could feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she opened her mouth to say something in response, only to shut it again as Max and Isabel returned to the car. Their somber looks and determined stance indicated one thing – there was something definitely going on in Copper Summit. And from the looks of it – it wasn’t good.

“Liz – you’re on, we’re going to the Crawford’s.”

The brunette turned with wild eyes toward her and she met them with concern. This was not working out, and poor Liz was being thrown in the middle of it all.

“Max what…”

“Not now Liz,” Isabel snapped and Tess couldn’t help but feel that pit in her stomach grow larger – this certainly was not going to end well.

And, eyeing Isabel, she didn’t think that she was the only one with secrets and apprehension and fear eating at her.

Great, just fucking great.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the text is from the Harvest and lyrics are to "Where is my Mind?" by The Pixies although the Placebo cover is what basically guided this part.

_With your feet on the air and your head on the ground  
Try this trick and spin it, yeah  
Your head will collapse if there's nothing in it  
And you'll ask yourself  
Where is my mind?_

Michael scowled as he shifted in his seat. The two of them had spent at least twenty minutes in Courtney's hideout, willing her to show up. Twenty awkward, drawn out minutes. Twenty more minutes that he wasn't with Tess.

He needed to stop worrying so damn much. She was the most powerful of them all, she could deal with it, if there even was anything to deal with. But maybe he was worried because she was so powerful and she'd been taken down that easily.

He had to stop watching _The View_ when he skipped school. Barbara, Joy, Star and Meredith were fucking with his brain.

"This isn't gonna work. She's not just gonna stroll up to her hideout while we're sitting here watching her." Maria huffed, her arms resting across her chest as she glared at him.

He always thought she looked best like this – surly and annoyed. Whereas Tess looked best when she was smiling and in his arms.

Michael was certain there was a reason for that – but he didn't want to dwell on it. He just wanted her back. And wait? Why was Maria mocking him? This was her brilliant plan – her Nancy Drew moment, as she phrased it.

"This was your idea."

"That's not the way I remember it."

Of course not. Maria Deluca was never wrong. How could he have forgotten that?

"Ok, so now it's my fault."

"Yes. You know what? Just to make things simpler, from now on you should consider everything to be your fault, ok? Ok."

Fuck. This was about more than the damn stakeout. This was about the creepy wall of shit at Courtney's apartment. And that could only mean one thing – she saw the pictures of him and Tess.

Fucking great. He'd have to deal with this _now_ when all he wanted was his damn girlfriend back and Courtney dealt with. Obviously neither thing was going to happen anytime soon.

Sighing, Michael scratched at his eyebrow and asked the inevitable question. "What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Whatever." He didn't want to deal with this right now. In fact, he was praying that she would just drop it. That would be fantastic and they'd go back to talking about nothing over a nice awkward silence.

After a momentary pause, he met her green eyes as she shifted to face him. "Are you dating Tess?"

No such luck on either avoiding this or not talking at all. He was a fucking winner tonight.

_Yes_ , Michael thought to himself as he feigned ignorance.

"Excuse me?" The half assed denial fell from his mouth without a second thought. He was more than happy to tell Maria the truth; he just didn't really want to deal with the fallout.

"I saw the pictures on that board of you two. So, are you dating or are you just like, cleaning her mouth with your tongue?"

"We're dating. Not that it is any of your business." Why not go with the truth – both parts of it. They stopped dating in May, after destiny, so it didn't concern her, as far as he was concerned.

"Hello!" Maria exclaimed flailing her arms in the air and pointing at herself. "Ex-girlfriend here! I have a right to know!"

"Critical piece of information here – ex-girlfriend." It was harsh, it was cruel, almost, but at the same time it was the truth, and it was past time she realized it. He was sick of her thinking that there was a chance for them, that they could just somehow get back together.

"Men," Maria sighed, exasperated, as she threw her hands dramatically up in the air. It was always like this with her, and he certainly didn't miss it. "So, you're really dating, huh? I could totally tell that this would happen."

Great, just great. She was going to say something ridiculous about Tess moving onto the next available man when it became clear that Max wasn't buying. This was exactly how he wanted to spend his fucking evening.

"Maria, if you're going to say it's about destiny and moving on to the next…"

"Michael! I am not that cruel!" Maria interjected, clearly picking up on his train of thought. Which, of course, meant that a part of her was thinking it.

But he didn't want to get into it. Instead, an awkward silence settled over the two of them.

After a few minutes, Maria smoothed her hair and turned toward him, a look of disbelief painted on her features. "I'm not! I was just going to say, okay, wow. I thought I'd be pissed about this. I really thought I'd be furious. But the thing is – you guys I don't know make sense or whatever. Plus I went to this psychic like last week or two weeks ago – I don't remember, and she was like – the next 48 hours were critical for my love life."

That was the best he was going to get from her – and he knew it. And, it was very adult of her, albeit unexpected. He didn't know what to say, so he decided to respond with humor. "Maria, I don't want to hear about how you bought a vibrator."

"Um, ew, pig! Do you kiss Tess with that mouth?"

Maria was shrieking, but he knew that her answer was her unsaid confirmation that she accepted his relationship. Not wanting to ruin the moment, he simply returned her comment with a smirk, waiting for her reply.

"You hound! Okay, whatever, so Madam Vivian, my mom's spiritual advisor, told me that these 48 hours were critical – and so I was desperate to find you, which clearly didn't work because I haven't even seen you in forever – so I was like all sad and depressed."

"And you got to know Jose that much better?"

"I hate you so much right now," Maria huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair off her face with a grin. "Anyway, Alex was there and I had this bottle of liquor and we kind of got drunk. And we realized some stuff – so anyway, we're together too. Just thought you should know."

"Romance and body shots? Sounds kinky," Michael teased, scratching his eyebrow as he rolled his eyes. He was happy for her – that she was getting over whatever they had. It was going to come out sooner or later that they simply weren't compatible, and they could at least be mature about it.

"You're disgusting."

Maria paused, then turned toward him. "But if we can talk reality here for a second, I think she booked. Out of town."

Absolutely not. If the attack on Tess was any indication, the skins were here to stay – and Courtney had a definite plan.

"No dice. She wouldn't do that. She's obsessed with me."

"I guess that makes 2 of you, then, doesn't it?"

Cute, Deluca, real cute.

"She'll show up sooner or later."

"How 'bout sooner?"

Jumping to his feet, one thought was running through his mind – _Oh, shit_!

\--

She could sense something was off the second they entered the house. It wasn't overwhelming – but it was there, nipping at the back of her consciousness. Inhaling, she brushed an imaginary wisp of hair off her face as she took her seat on the couch.

Tess tried to listen as the others made idle conversation about Whittaker, the highway, but she was overcome with a sense of dread. If only Michael was here, she mused, before souring.

What was all that bullshit she was thinking in the car? She was strong enough to do this. She could totally handle this.

Inhaling, she pushed her palms down on her knees. There was something off here. Why had everyone stopped talking? What was going on?

Shifting, she noticed someone move out of the corner of her eye. He was short and young – like a teenager. God, why couldn't she see well? Why had she been relegated to a corner?

Isabel was talking now, but all that registered was muddled female voices and a mouth opening and closing. Her own fears were drowning out everything else as her apprehension overcame her. Something was _wrong_ and every cell in her body was screaming at her to leave – but she sat rooted in place.

Maybe it was the fear. Maybe it really had paralyzed her? Maybe she had been so overcome by emotion that she couldn't move? Could that happen? God, why did she hate science?

That **had** to be it. Why had she agreed to this again?

Oh god, the old broad was talking. Why wasn't she hearing – why did it feel like she was drowning? Why did she feel like a guest in her own body?

The bile was rising in her throat, as her thoughts grew more panicked, more rushed, more desperate. Why wasn't anyone noticing? Why couldn't they see that she clearly was uncomfortable?

Why couldn't she focus? Was this what it was like to be high? Had she gotten delirious?

"Nicholas, there you are! Come on in here. Come on, say hello."

It was like her stomach had been coated in lead. Dancing dark eyes were trained on her and she opened her mouth to scream – but no sound came out. In fact, she couldn't even open her mouth. And Nicholas continued to mock her with his eyes, while feigning sadness.

This was a **trap**. And she couldn't even do anything to warn them.

She strained her face muscles to force a frown onto her face, but all that came of it was a dull ache and another amused grin from Nicholas. Maybe, maybe if she could just get out of the house – if she could just get one of them to follow her.

God, it wasn't that hard, was it? She wasn't an invalid, she knew how to walk – one foot then two. What was happening? She couldn't focus on anything – her head hurt too much.

Something had just happened – something important. What was it? Oh, right, Nicholas. St. Nicholas? It wasn't Christmas. Was it?

"If Vanessa was like your mother, well I'm like your Grandmother."

What was going on? Grandma? Why did her head hurt? Where were they? Where was Michael?

Michael. Michael. Michael. **_Michael_**.

Maybe if she just focused on him – maybe it would make sense. He helped her before, right?

Blinking, she shook her head as her mind cleared. Jerking suddenly, she threw the rice krispie treat that had been in her hand onto the coffee table. What the hell had just happened? Her head was killing her and her muscles ached and she _really_ needed to go to the bathroom.

"Excuse me, where's the restroom?"

It didn't even sound like her voice. She didn't even remember thinking about asking the question. In fact, she just was reflecting on needing to use it and all the sudden out comes the question.

"Down the hall on the left."

Nodding, she lifted herself off the sofa and followed the directions. Maybe this was her chance – maybe if she just could get out of here, it'd all be okay. After all, there had to be a window or something right?

Pushing the door open, she brushed a stray piece of hair off her face – it'd be okay. She was getting control of her body again – she just had to keep focusing on Michael, getting out of here and fixing whatever was wrong. No big deal, right?

Inhaling, she shut the door quietly behind her and let out a silent plea. This had to fucking work. She was finally thinking for herself again, regaining control of her body.

Her body jerked and turned as she fell over herself on the way to the window. She had to get out of here. She just had to. Gripping the handle, she pushed hard against the glass – willing it to open.

Damn thing was stuck. It was fucking stuck. She couldn't get it open. Why wasn't it opening?

Clawing wildly at her hair, Tess pressed all her weight against the painted over glass. She had to get out of here. She had to get Michael – she just fucking had to do something to warn them.

If she trusted her powers, she'd use them right now. But that'd only let Nicholas know that she wasn't under whatever he'd done anymore. And she couldn't have that. Not when she was so close. Not when she was able to do something to save them.

"Fuck," Tess hissed, her arm slipping out of position, the window still painted shut. The harsh sting of a splinter cutting through her fingertip caused her to pull the bleeding digit into her mouth.

There was no time for this. She had to get out of here. Her mind was screaming as she surveyed the room, looking for something to help her lift the damn window. Finally deciding on a toilet bowl brush with a thin, metal handle, she gripped it and began to dig at the edges of the painted over frame.

Peeling at the paint, her heart pumping so loudly that she could barely hear the metal carving on the wood. Her mouth was dry and her stomach was knotted, but she just needed to get a little more of the condensed paint off and then – freedom.

It was gone. The paint was gone in one corner!

Scrambling, she shoved the brush into her back pocket and immediately pressed her palms against the glass. The window whined and bristled against her weight, but it was finally starting to move. She could feel the resistance lessening and she squealed with delight as fresh air hit her face.

She did it! She did it!

Grinning widely, Tess pressed down on the windowsill and brushed her bangs off her face as she prepared to hoist herself over the ledge.

She could save them. She could make a difference. They'd forgive her later when they saw what she'd done.

Suddenly, the window flew down from its perch, crashing against her fingertips, crushing them.

"Oh my god! Fuck!" Tess screamed, not needing to try to bend her fingers to know that more than half were probably broken. Stupid fucking house, she just needed to get out of here.

Wrenching her bloodied hands from under the shattered glass pane, she bit her lip as she pushed it open again. It was harder now, with broken fingers and cracked glass – but her resolve was stronger.

"Going somewhere?"

Oh god, oh god oh god. She was too late. Nicholas was here and she had nothing to say for her efforts except for broken fingers and bloody palms.

"Leave me alone!" Tess bellowed, pooling her energy into her palms. She had to fight him; she could do this – for herself, for her friends, for her planet.

Power flowed into her fingertips; her only thought to destroy him. Cells cracked and burned, marring her view, as her energy consumed her entire being. She had to do this, she had to – it was her one shot and she was going to take it.

Everything was so much brighter, so much louder. Her head was growing heavy and she felt like she was going to pass out from sensory overload.

Electricity sparked from her fingertips as she began her attack. Wincing through the pain, she fired her blast, determined to hit him. Screams ripping from her mouth, power flowing out of her so fast she could barely register it, Tess was consumed by only one goal – to destroy him.

Air was rushing past her and, for a second, she felt like she was flying. Was this what it was like to use this much power? You literally felt like you were floating?

White-hot pain ripped through her body, shattering muscles and bones with alarming speed. Sputtering for air, Tess moaned in agony as sharp tears ripped at her eyes, pieces of tile ripping into her flesh.

Red. All she could see when she tried to will her eyes open was red. It was consuming her being – staining her fingers, her shirt, her limbs in vermillion, scarlet and crimson. Her head drooped and spun, the weight too much to hold up without a fight – and she was tired. It would be so easy just to rest for a while. She'd deal with whatever else later.

Oh god, did she have a concussion?

Violently rubbing at her eyes, she could make out the blurry outline of feet moving closer. She had to get out of here, her mind screamed, the realization encompassing her thoughts.

Sobering, she tried to push herself up off the ground, her weight pressing down on her arms. Sharp, violent protests ripped from her muscles, and she bit down on her lip, the acrid taste of fresh blood hitting her tongue.

Wobbling and shaking under her own weight, Tess tried, in vain, to push back the tears that were spilling from her eyes. Grunting, she pushed her body upwards, rejoicing when she felt her knees curl under her.

With a sharp jerk, her head snapped backward, screaming in pain as hair was being ripped from her head.

“You never were a bright girl, were you Ava?” Nicholas mocked, his mouth mere inches from her ear

“Fuck you.” Tess was seething, struggling against his grasp in vain. He was so strong, and there was so much blood and she was so weak.

“Is that an invitation? You can scream as loud as you want – the room’s been soundproofed.” Nicholas leered as he ripped at her hair and used his free hand to cradle her breast.

Trembling at his touch, the bile rose in her throat as his hand drifted upwards, under her shirt. His fingers were like ice, she mused, unwilling to think about what might happen. Cold digits thumbing her nipple as she began to cry, unable to form words to express her revulsion, praying, by some miracle, the others would come to her rescue.

Searing, ripping pain rushed through her as he twisted her nipple, pinching it so hard that she felt it was going to fall off. Her body fell forward as he let go of her, slamming her eyes shut right before colliding with the floor.

Scrambling, Tess clawed at the tile, determined to get away from him. Screaming in agony as Nicholas’ foot grinding against her left palm, she felt like passing out. Her eyes were beginning to roll, only aware of the throbbing in her hand and her failure.

“Sorry to disappoint. I like a challenge and you bore me. Oh if your people could see you now! The great Queen Ava a sobbing teenager who fails to protect herself from even a simple attack! Pathetic, really.”

Tess let go of a breath she didn’t even know that she was holding. He wasn’t – he wasn’t going to do _that_. However, his words weren’t lost on her – she was weak, a pathetic recreation of predecessor. How could she save a planet when she couldn’t even save herself?

“And don’t you have a King to deflower?”

“Never,” Tess moaned reaching for something to throw at him with her good hand. Wincing as Nicholas pressed his shoe into her right hand, halting her movement, she swallowed a lump in her throat – realizing that she was also swallowing blood.

“Silly girl, it’s not like you have a choice in the matter. Pretty soon, you’ll be spreading your legs, practically impaling yourself with Zan’s hard cock. All for the good of Antar – at least your fidelity survived your reincarnation.”

Biting her lip, her thoughts wandered to Michael. This would _destroy_ him, but the sense of foreboding was eating at her – he was right. She couldn’t fight him, he was too strong, and she was pathetic. A waste of life, a terrible queen, there was only one alternative – but that was dependant upon whether or not she survived this exchange.

“And then you’ll kill them. One by one – violent and unexpected. It’ll be poetry, I promise – and I’m sure that you’ll agree that we save Rath for last. Once we’re fully involved in our little _arrangement_ , you’ll want nothing more than to torture him, kill him a little each day. Maybe even fuck Khivar while he watches? Cut off his cock and let him bleed out? Shove a sword up his ass. Doesn’t that make you wet Ava?”

No. No. No. **_No_**.

Her mind was screaming at her as Nicholas laced his fingers into her hair, sending her image after image of Michael dying and her holding the bloody weapon, a satisfied smirk on her face.

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

Her head jerked forward, vomit pouring out of her mouth as another vision took over her senses.

_Naked, she’d fired a gun at him, laughing as he hit the ground – blood pouring out of him. Without even so much as a goodbye kiss, she’d finished the job, a knife peeling the skin off of his still breathing body. Turning to Nicholas, she kissed him hard, allowing him to enter her – their bare bodies coming together next to Michael’s dead body, blood coating their skin like a mark of victory._

“NO!” Tess boomed, her skin sparking and burning as power rushed out of her, willing Nicholas to die. She would never, she could never, Michael meant way too much to her. Shrieking, she jerked away from him and fired her blast, collapsing against the floor from shear exhaustion. Her lids drooping as darkness enveloped her; she hoped that she’d gotten him this time.

Sharp, stinging pain ripped across her face and she recoiled, too tired to do anything. Maybe this was the rescue party? Maybe they’d thought about her?

“I’m done with foreplay,” Nicholas announced and she tried to struggle against him as he dragged her by the hair over to him. Everything was so heavy, so hard and she couldn’t move.

Was this what dying felt like?

Moaning as electricity was violently being pushed into her head, cells and memories realigning while Nicholas laughed condescendingly she felt herself falling, slipping under. It was like she was floating, a part of her body but not and it took her a moment to realize what, exactly, was happening.

She was a failure. She’d fought and failed. Conceded defeat to the enemy – a man, who wanted nothing more than to destroy them – and use her to do it. What would happen now? What would happen to Michael? God, she couldn’t become that person – that horrible person who did those things. That wasn’t her. It just wasn’t her at all. He was Michael.

She **loved** him. And now he’d never know. The silent declaration repeated itself over and over as he pumped more energy into her mind, until she couldn’t feel anything at all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are to Eisley's "Blackened Crown"

_Did you hear me holler at you  
to come save me I'm in danger  
My pearls have fallen into mud  
and you were too late_

It was like last spring all over again. Coming into that room and seeing Nicholas before him, cocky and condescending – boasting about killing him in their last life, smirking over what he was sure was something related to Tess. He wanted him _dead_ and it scared him that he could be so sure of it, especially knowing the cost of taking a life.

In the end, it hadn't mattered – he collapsed and Michael decided that saving Courtney's life was more worthwhile than taking Nicholas'. Courtney wasn't someone he trusted, but she had information about the skins, and he knew that they'd need it – down the line.

There was a part of him that still wasn't sure he'd made the right decision. But there hadn't been time – he got outside and there were screams and orders barked in rapid succession, nothing really penetrating his consciousness. Everyone was moving, running for their lives desperate to leave Copper Summit.

Everyone except Tess. She'd been practically dragged by Max and Liz over here, something that he hadn't noticed at first, but registered it when he looked back and she was still standing there – lost and confused like she was just coming into waking.

Slamming the trunk shut, his world suddenly felt like it was in slow motion. He'd reached for Tess, only to have her jerk away and press her hands to her head. Air caught in his lungs as he watched her knees buckle under her weight, her small body collapsing to the ground, his ears trained on the pained screams ripping from her mouth as she continued to claw at her hair.

His stomach felt like it was coated in lead and the metallic taste of blood registered on his tongue before he noticed that he'd bitten the inside of his mouth. He could see Liz's mouth moving from the corner of his eye but couldn't register the words coming out, all his attention focused on the blonde in front of him.

It all was hazy after that. Someone said something and someone else reminded them that they had to leave. It wasn't until Max grabbed at Tess, pulling her frail body up from the ground as if she had no value to him that he had regained his focus.

"We don't have time for this." Max spat, his exasperation and fear colored his delivery, and Tess just turned her head away from everyone, but not before he had noticed the desolate look in her eye.

"Bastard." Michael snarled, his anger rising as he clenched his fists – desperate to get out some of the fury that had been rising within him. As he'd stepped closer, he barely registered Tess cowering to his target's left; he just wanted to inform Max that his behavior was unwarranted the only way he knew how.

But then Maria had stood next to him in what he realized now was an effort to stop the rapidly escalating violence, pressing her keys into his palm, the little alien head leaving an indent.

"Michael take Tess," Maria had ordered, guiding the smaller girl to the car. She then turned to Courtney, who was trying to get into the back seat and commanded, "hey geriatric, c'mon we're going with Max."

Then, he was in the car, his thoughts leaving him with no comfort – Tess hadn't said anything the entire car ride home, and he wasn't sure he wanted to ask. In fact, the only thing that indicated that she was even conscious was the steady stream of tears falling down her face.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that something terrible had happened – and it more likely than not had to do with Nicholas. The pained, haunted look in her eyes was enough evidence for him – and after Courtney's explanation of what he was capable of, just seeing her like this made him sick to his stomach.

He just didn't know what to do to help her.

Drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel, he stole glances at her as they drove toward the Valenti's. Apprehensive, Michael shifted uncomfortably in his seat as self doubt continued to assault his consciousness.

Clenching his fists, he resisted the urge to punch the steering wheel. An angry tear fell from his face and he swatted it away. Cursing Nicholas, he watched Tess wrap her arms around herself and push her body further into the seat.

Her skin was red and blotchy, marring her normally clear complexion. She looked so tiny as she receded into the passenger seat, her hair, loose and dull, beginning to veil her face. It was like a sucker punch to the gut, seeing her like this, broken and defeated, and so hopelessly alone.

_You did this – it's your fault_. An unspoken accusation that he repeated like a mantra in his head. It grew in strength with each choked sob and strangled cry that escaped from her throat.

Why had he even given a passing consideration to letting her do this? He knew it was a possibility that she'd run into Nicholas. Why the hell did he think she'd be okay?

He'd wanted to believe in the possibility that she was fine so desperately that he'd stopped himself from objecting. And that decision had far greater consequences than he could have even imagined.

Pulling up to the driveway, he stopped the car and exhaled. The ride had been draining, for both of them. "Tess, we're here."

His voice cracked and he bit down hard on his lip. He wasn't supposed to cry – he was supposed to be the strong one, he wasn't the one who was hurt here.

She turned toward him, and he half expected to see rage in her eyes. It would have been warranted – he failed and now he was about to cry. Wild, fearful blue orbs stared back at him, silently pleading for him not to leave her here.

Exhaling, he turned the ignition and started the car, noticing her visible relief from the corner of his eye. Why did she want to stay with him anyway?

What was it Nicholas had said he was? Dull and stupid – hell, the bastard had been kind in his description. He was scum, the eternal fuck up. Hell, he was _Mickey_ , the boy who couldn't even put up a fight against a drunk shit like Hank. The one no one wanted.

Driving down the empty street, her fingers dragged against the window of the car, the cool desert air had created a fog and she was drawing obscure pictures, in what he was sure was an attempt to drive her attention away from what happened in Arizona.

Another jarring reminder of one simple truth: he **failed** her. And not for the first time either. It was in his genes to protect them, to protect _her_. But he continued to prove just how much he sucked at it – no wonder they'd all died the last time.

Courtney described what Nicholas could do as rape. And maybe it was, but maybe it was worse. He didn't want to know what that meant. But he didn't have a choice – he had to help her, it was the least he could do now.

"This is it."

"Okay." Tess sighed, extending her small hand outward to grasp the door handle. He couldn't help but hold his breath as she began the small movement, wondering if she'd actually complete it. It was strange how the simplest gesture could affect him, but he was relieved to see that she was doing something other than her best impersonation of a mime.

The tension was palpable as the two of them entered his small apartment. Neither wanting to discuss what, exactly had happened – and it frustrated him. Scratching his eyebrow, he wished he had the ability to use empty words to make people feel better – to be more like Max.

But her blank stares and apprehensive twiddling of her fingers told him one thing. She needed more than that – and he wasn't sure how to give it to her. Inhaling, he turned to face her head on, and was struck by just how different she looked from the girl she'd been only a day ago.

Confidence had been replaced by insecurity so raw that it was hard to even look at her. Her wide blue eyes were dull and sad, devastation imbued her gaze. She was jumping at shadows – something he'd failed to notice in the car, but now, on his couch, she would jerk, ever so slightly each time his foot met the worn carpet.

"What happened?" Two words. It was two words that verbalized the question that he had been wondering the entire ride to Roswell.

"Nothing!" She shouted, her voice cracking as the lie immediately fell from her lips. Not wanting to say anything yet, he simply raised an eyebrow in response and crossed his arms against his chest.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry." Tess mumbled, pushing her body forward, up off the couch, toward the doorway and his stomach felt like it was sinking to the floor. She was shutting him out, and, in his mind, deservedly so. It still didn't mean that it didn't hurt worse than anything else in the world.

"Don't." Michael commanded, the protest slipping from his lips without warning and his voice much stronger than he felt. Reaching out, his palm met her forearm, and without thinking, his fingers tightened around it, holding her in place. Blue met brown in a challenge, a spark of righteous indignation flashing across her face, and he felt himself being drawn into her gaze.

Her fear hit him without warning, thousands of emotions suddenly overpowering him, drawing him further into the connection. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, his lungs burning as if he'd just run a marathon and it felt like he was going to pass out from the shear force of it all.

Moments in time flashed by as the erratic thumping of his heart rang in his ear. His throat ached as his stomach tightened in knots – adrenaline kicking into high gear. Energy was coursing through his veins, desperate for release.

It was too much, and his control was too faulty. Wincing, he exhaled, silently praying that he wouldn't hurt her. Bursts of light flickered across his view as the air stilled and emotions gave way to images.

Blood, broken glass and shattered limbs permeated his view, Nicholas towering overhead, his smile malicious as he came closer, until his foot was grinding against Tess' palm. His mouth was moving, but Michael couldn't make out the words, and he wasn't sure if it was the flashes or Tess' need for him not to hear that was stopping him.

The visions shifted and changed as Nicholas moved closer, his mouth precariously close to what, he assumed, was her ear.

It felt like he had been punched in the gut, Tess fired a gun at him, cackling, her inhibitions gone as the bullet penetrated his skin, his body falling to the ground. She was towering over him now, slithering against his flesh, eyes dark and desirous, as if this was what she had wanted all along.

"Get **off** me!"

Violent, jerking motions pushed him away from her, and he opened his eyes to see Tess staring at him wild and angry and hurt. Her blue eyes burned him with silent accusations of violated trust.

He hadn't meant for it to happen. But there they were, easily accessible and so raw. But the scariest part was that he knew they got worse than what he'd seen in those fleeting moments. She was hiding something sinister inside herself that she didn't want him to see.

"Jesus, what the hell was that?" It was the first thing that he could think of – his mind was still reeling from what he'd experienced and how it contrasted with what, exactly he'd seen earlier. She had been bloody in those images, and then, killing him – but from what he could see there wasn't a mark on her.

Maybe Nicholas had just put all those images in her head? Courtney said he could take things out – so maybe it worked both ways? All he knew was the next time he saw that asshole would be the last.

"Nothing, okay?" Her delivery was haughty but her posture was anything but. She was fearful of her secret getting out, and unable to lie with the same gusto she had when she'd first come to Roswell.

And it infuriated him that she was covering for that little shit at all.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, the rage boiling within him as she continued to shift her weight uncomfortably from side to side. Whatever that bastard did to her, whatever he took and put in its place – he couldn't even find the words to describe how much he wanted him _dead_.

If he'd only been more determined – quicker on the draw in Arizona, he wouldn't be thinking about _next time_ , he'd be tap dancing on the fucker's grave. Why was he such a fuck up and why was she trying to hide what happened?

"Don't bullshit me! Was that him? I'll fucking kill him!" His outburst was primal – his words falling over each other in stops and starts as they grew louder and more forceful until they reached a furious climax.

"Would you listen to yourself?" Tess hollered, jumping off the couch and defensively clasping a hand against her chest. The resigned look in her eye infuriated him – as if she was merely acting like she was incensed by his behavior to mask just how unwilling she was to fight.

"How can you be so calm about this? What the hell did he do?"

Pushing her hair out of her face she glared up at him, anger visible on her face. If it weren’t for the way that she was shifting from side to side, he would think that she was legitimately angry at him, and not trying to hide her fear. "Someone has to be! God, Michael! You can't just kill him!"

"He's trying to kill you and you want to what, give him a hug? We're at **war** Tess!" Balling his fists, he resisted the urge to let his anger get the best of him. It would be so easy to take out the wall, let his fury win out. But seeing her stand there, her bottom lip trembling even as her face was void of emotion, he knew that any outward display of his anger would break her.

"Don't you think I know that? Just drop it!" She was screaming and clawing at her hair, willing him to stop, but he wouldn’t drop it. He owed her more than that, especially when she refused to see just how much he’d continue to affect her, unless they came up with a solution.

"Are you crazy?"

Her palm collided with his cheek and he recoiled as her fingers drew themselves away from his skin. It burned worse than he thought it would, but he knew that he deserved it – and not just for insulting her mental state.

"Don't you **ever** call me that!"

"Sorry. I didn't mean… but god Tess!"

"I don't want to talk about it." Her arms were folded across her chest and she was staring at him like it was the end of the conversation, but he wasn’t going to take that for an answer.

Defiant, he pressed her, repeating the question that continued to plague him.

"What did he do to you?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it Michael!" She was shrieking now, her voice growing more desperate for him to stop pressing and firm in her resolve to stop talking about the entire ordeal.

"You can't just decide not to talk about it Tess. Fuck! What I saw…Courtney said that he can take your thoughts, is that what he did? Because, what I saw, that's not you, Tess."

He was stumbling over his words, anger and frustration getting the best of him as she stared back at him, emotionless and unwilling to discuss it any further. But seeing her grow tenser, quieter as he continued to broach the subject infuriated him.

"I want to help you Tess. But you have to tell me what he did."

Pointedly, she looked at him, and exhaled, saying without words that she didn’t want, or think she needed his help. Too fucking bad – he returned her glare with one of his own and she finally relented, her face softening as she shifted her hands off her hips.

"I don't know what he did, okay?"

Raising an eyebrow in response, he shut his eyes in an attempt to mask his desire to roll them. How could she not know what Nicholas did – he saw those flashes from her, sensed her fear and apprehension – so why was she lying?

Tess shifted, her feet scraping against the worn carpet as she met his gaze, anger masking any other emotion and he groaned inwardly, bracing himself for whatever she was about to say.

At least she was feeling something other than desolation, and while he hated to see the ire marring her face, he knew that she was feeling – and that, he thought, was a victory in itself.

"What do you want me to say, Michael? That I'm missing time? That he beat the shit out of me – that I thought… god I thought. I thought I was going to die! And then, I woke up, or came out of it or whatever and the first thing I notice is that I'm suddenly healed and all these people staring at me like I'm nuts! I lived and did things that I don't remember, and don't even think I had **control** over."

The air expelled from his lungs as he watched her shoulders sag, tears and red rimmed eyes replacing the defiant anger he’d seen moments before. He hadn’t considered that Nicholas had, basically, taken over her body – and it added a new dimension to the equation. It didn’t quite make sense yet, but from she was saying, he assumed that somehow Nicholas had the ability to turn them into puppets for whatever he needed.

"So, no. Michael, I don't know what he did. All I know is that he told me what he could make me do – and showed me just how easy it is for him to do it."

He had no idea how to respond to what she was saying, her tears drowning out any ability for him to think clearly. Reaching out a hand, he tried to draw her into him, only to have her step backward, away from him. She wrapped her arms around herself as she took a seat on the couch and turned away.

That fucker was going down.

Had it only been yesterday that they were hugging and happy and scared to let each other go? It seemed like a lifetime had gone by since then and they were two strangers trying to cope with a tragedy.

“What can I do?”

They were four words that he’d never really uttered before, he’d never gotten this close to anyone before, not even Max or Isabel to offer his help, not that they’d want it. He was just the one that was always fucking things up, according to them – not the one who could help find solutions.

He opened his mouth to say something else, add more words in an attempt to say something else, something more poignant that could help her, but she wasn’t listening. Michael could tell from her perch that her mind was already reeling again, going a mile a minute in an attempt to find a solution.

"Don’t worry, I have a plan."

She had a plan? Why did that make him feel even worse about what was going on? Maybe it was the blasé way that she introduced it – as if it was an afterthought to her, even now.

And that meant one thing – whatever it was, she was planning on going it alone. Fucking great.

"And you weren't going to tell me?"

He already knew the answer the second he opened his mouth. It was the way that she shifted further away from him, protective of whatever idea she had. It took him a moment, but then he realized what, exactly, she was doing. Tess didn’t want him to touch her – and was she really to blame? He’d gotten flashes before, and although it killed him to be in the dark about this, he sort of understood. She needed something to be just hers again.

The only problem was this wasn’t the right time to reclaim her privacy. She was playing up her independence card with someone who had tried to kill her. The details weren’t there and he wasn’t sure he wanted to press her yet, but from what he’d seen and felt and heard, he knew this was a bad idea.

Even if he wanted to kill Nicholas.

"No."

Exasperated, he clasped his hands together, fist hitting palm as she continued to hold his gaze – silently defiant. It wasn’t so much what she said that was frustrating him, it was how she was saying it. She was still angry for the sake of being angry, not because she felt impassioned, irate and willing to fight.

"We're a group. We do things together –you can't just go off on your own here." God, he sounded like Max, lecturing her like this when he refused to accept the same advice.

She was up off the couch and angrily pacing in front of him. "Michael, I'm not a part of the group. Or haven't you noticed? You're the only person who…"

"Exactly! I care! Damnit Tess. I love you!"

Blanching, he continued to stare at her, the air expelling from his lungs as he realized what exactly he’d said. The last time he’d – hell, the only time he’d said those three words was to get Maria off his back. Sure, he’d sort of thought, at the time, that he’d loved her – but that was nothing compared to this.

And now he’d fucking told her – and why? Because he wasn’t thinking. Story of his fucking life.

The silence dragged on for a minute in a half. Tess was shifting from side to side, but said nothing. Her face was emotionless and she stared blankly back at him, brushing a stray piece of hair off her face before she opened her mouth, a sharp monotone revealing itself.

"You shouldn't."

She was shutting down – and he wasn’t about to let her, not now, not after that admission. And who the fuck was she to tell him that he shouldn’t love her? It doesn’t work that way!

"Well tough shit. Just because you’re feeling guilty that some fuckwad who’s been planning this for years attacked you doesn’t mean that you get to tell me how I should feel. You beat him, Tess! You may not think that now, but you’re still here – and yeah, it sucks what he did to you. But you beat him, and the only way he wins now is if you let him.”

Yeah, it was clichéd and stupid and probably the lamest pep talk ever, but he was hoping that at least she was paying attention to him. Scratching his eyebrow, he watched as her eyes softened slightly as she focused on him.

“I don't do flowers and chocolates or whatever the hell it is girls want, but I love you. And I don’t want to see you get yourself killed. Okay?”

“I know what I’m doing.” Tess snapped, stepping closer to him, challenging him to fight her on this. It was what she wanted – for him to call her stupid, crazy, so that she could recoil again, cite some righteous indignation that would justify her pushing him away.

“No, you don’t.” Moving closer, his lips were inches from hers as he stared down at her, impassioned and determined, but still unwilling to close the space between them, they hung in limbo, taunting her.

Irate blue orbs stared up at him, refusing to give in to temptation. He forced back the urge to smirk as she furrowed her brow and puffed her chest up in an attempt to stand taller against him.

“Yes, I…”

Cutting her off, Michael crushed his lips to hers, violently closing the space between them. She responded in kind, her nails digging into his back as her tongue darted in and out of his mouth, colliding with his tongue as he snaked his hand into her hair.

“God, Michael,” Tess moaned, her breath warm against his cheek as she lifted his shirt up and over his head before he had a chance to protest.

Lips meeting again, his hands slipped beneath her shirt, digits tracing the outline of her breast, as she took his bottom lip in her mouth, gently grating it with her teeth. Her eyes darkened as he continued to explore the soft flesh, any hesitation gone as soft curls fell away from her face as she arched her body backward.

Her hand slipped downward, underneath the waistband of his jeans and she gave him a wicked grin. Gently stroking him, he slammed his eyes shut as the course fabric grew tighter, trying not to come apart in her hands.

“Jesus,” Michael groaned, Tess’ body pressed against his, and he wondered, idly, when she’d lost her shirt as he cupped her breast, moving his mouth downward to meet the exposed flesh.

Flicking his tongue, he felt her shift in his arms, coming up as he pulled away, an amorous glint in her eye.

“Bedroom,” she commanded, dragging him behind her – Tess suddenly fully in control. Not that he minded, he mused, all his concerns about yesterday fading away as she pulled him into the room by tugging on the waistband of his jeans, shutting the door behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from "Your Ex-Lover is Dead" by Stars

_It's nothing but time and a face that you lose  
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose  
I'll write you a postcard  
_ _I'll send you the news  
From a house down the road from real love_

**  
2010**

Yawning, Tess pulled a stray hair between her fingers, relieved that her hair had returned to blonde after all these years. First, it was black in homage to PJ Harvey's "A Perfect Day Elise" and all she'd left behind. It was some cheap five-dollar box she’d picked up miles from the Colorado border and evened out with her powers. Black was the color of mourning – and she was doing that a lot back then, hell she'd just left Roswell and Michael right after they'd had sex, faking her own death in the process.

It was a lot to deal with, and she hadn't even been seventeen at the time.

She hated dwelling on her life back then. If she thought about what she'd left behind for the greater good it only meant that she'd spend her day crying – and she had better things to do, like work, even if her boss had practically ordered her to take a personal day.

At least it was nice out, she mused, stepping out of the metro, rolling her eyes in annoyance as she saw the large group of tourists crowd around the escalator. If she'd been 5 years younger, she'd be screaming "stand right, walk left" by now.

But, she was twenty-six, not twenty-one, and she had nothing to really do, the House was in recess so lobbying was on hold, she was on "vacation", and it was a mild September day. Thank god for global warming.

Her finger traced the outer circle of her iPod, effortlessly following the crowd of people toward the mall, towel in hand. If she was being forced to ignore work, she was going to tan – or do the next best thing, turn a deeper shade of red.

It was a pastime she'd picked up in Los Angeles. Kal thought she'd blend in better that way, and she'd rolled her eyes – trying to mask just how much his concern for her meant.

Her hair had been chestnut then, and she'd just turned nineteen, finishing up her first year at UCLA.

She hadn't meant to find Kal. Her plan was simple enough, get the fuck out of Roswell and avoid all alien life forms. In her desperation, Tess'd done things she wasn't proud of, convinced that if she were gone, Nicholas would stop hunting them.

The original plan she'd come up with on the way back from Arizona was to drive her car off a bridge. But then Michael had to open his mouth and tell her that he loved her – right after she'd all but convinced herself that no one would mind if she were gone.

And, if she were being honest with herself, she knew that she couldn't have gone through with it.

So, it was on to plan B, the plan that she and Nasedo had concocted in the event that he was captured. It wasn't perfect, and looking back on it now, hadn't been safe, but it worked, at least for a while. She'd staged her death – an elaborate hoax involving manipulating the body of a dead woman to resemble her and sending her car into a canyon, hundreds of feet below. It still gave her nightmares.

But, at least she had a new identity – she was Vanessa Harrington, from Seattle, Washington. The newest transfer student to Hollywood High School in Los Angeles. If only she'd been thinking – she would have realized that Nasedo probably shared that information with the skins.

That oversight brought her to Kal.

It was Copper Summit all over again – she had lost time and apparently done things that she couldn't even remember. It was one of Nicholas' other powers – mind control, except it didn't normally work on Antarians. It was the fact that she was a hybrid and one with strong mental abilities that made her vulnerable – something, she learned, akin to the phenomena of a negative and a negative equaling a positive.

When she woke up, hours later, she was in Kal's mansion and he was staring down at her with an odd mixture of concern and contempt, almost as if he was unsure what, exactly to feel. He was obligated to protect her, but it didn't mean that he hated her, or himself, any less for that genetic predisposition.

Tess still didn't know the specifics of what happened to her in Arizona and in California. Kal offered only what he knew, and he did that begrudgingly – unwilling to even temporarily fill the role he'd been sent to Earth to play.

He'd said it was like being an alien puppet, a living marionette doll. Nicholas had taken over her body for a period of time, and her mind was like it was in a coma. She was still able to do simple functions – like breathe, but not able to think on her own.

Basically, it was like she was drunk to the point of blacking out – but instead of alcohol clouding her mind, it was Nicholas.

Except, unlike the temporary affects of alcohol, what Nicholas did – it was permanent if not treated right away, kind of like cancer. He could, eventually, rot a person's mind to the point where they were completely submissive to him, perverting every thought, every desire to the point where the person was just an extension of his mind – acting out his will.

Thank god Kal hadn't hesitated in helping her then – she'd been close, and they both knew it.

Shivering, she rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms – she hated thinking about this, what could have been, even though Nicholas was probably long gone by now. Kal'd never said anything explicitly, but he definitely acted like the little fucker was dead.

Somewhere along the way, the two had bonded over their unhappiness. He'd admired her intelligence and wit and she was glad for the stability that he provided. When he'd told her that she needed another identity, Tess hadn't hesitated when he suggested she take his last name.

God, she had to call him.

Making her way over to a spot by the Washington Monument, Tess laid her towel out on the grass, relieved that the tourists hadn't overrun the mall yet today and the kickballers weren't starting until at least four. Stretching, she lowered herself to the ground, when she felt a soft body collide into her legs, knocking her off balance as a red Frisbee whizzed overhead.

Biting her tongue, she pushed herself up from the ground and dusted herself off, pointedly glaring at the little brat, who couldn't be any older than six. What kind of shit-brained parents let their kids run around unsupervised?

"Sorry about that," she heard a man about her age call, and she was momentarily struck by how much he sounded like Michael. But he was in Roswell and she was in DC and that was ten years ago.

As he came closer, she continued to stare, the color rushing from her face as she realized, that yes, it was him, and no, she couldn't run.

And if she were being honest with herself, she would admit that she didn't want to.

"Andrew, watch where you're…"

His voice faded as his eyes grew wider than she'd ever seen them. Unsure of what to say, she stood there for a moment, the little boy lodged between them, forgotten. Opening her mouth a few times, she tried to form sound, but the words died in her throat. There was so much she wanted to say, but couldn't.

Inhaling, she forced herself to say something and cringed when her simple iteration of his name came out like a question. "Michael? Michael Guerin?"

He stopped in his tracks, his face blooming in recognition as his eyes grew wider and he opened his mouth a few times in shock.

"Holy shit."

Understatement. This was filed under completely implausible and wildest dream coming true. But she couldn't quiet her stomach from doing flip-flops as the apprehension grew within her.

"Michael, that's a swear word, I'm going to tell mommy."

Of course the little kid had to interject himself into the conversation. Maybe it was the fear that she could never have a kid, or a byproduct of growing up alien – but she really hated children.

She watched as Michael dug his hand into his pocket and retrieved a crumpled bill, and was struck by just how similar he looked, ten years later. His face was more defined and his hair was feathered a little at the shoulder – but he still resembled the boy she'd left behind, if only physically.

"Here's five dollars, get yourself an ice cream." Michael snapped, shoving the five-dollar bill into the boy's hand and waving him off. She had half a mind to tell him not to let the boy go off by himself, but given that the ice cream cart was in view and the nature of the conversation they needed to have, she kept her mouth shut.

"I'm still going to tell," the little kid huffed, indignant as he clutched the money close to his chest, annoyed that he’d been cast aside, while making, in his own mind, a valid point. Tess had to bite her lip to keep from laughing – because, from her perspective, he’d been outwitted by a five year old.

"I really don't care."

"Fine!"

Tess watched as the kid huffed and walked away, obviously annoyed to be sent off alone. Concerned, she furrowed her brow and sighed. "Are you sure he's okay to do that alone?"

"Yeah. Fuck. Tess." He wasn't able to make sentences and it warmed her heart to see such raw emotion displayed for her – even if she was the source of his grief.

"Not my name anymore," she sighed without thinking. It'd been so long since anyone had called her Tess that it sounded strange, but comforting. A bit of stability in her ever changing environment.

"Whatever. Cut the crap Harding."

"Don't whatever me, Michael."

"Right, maybe I'll just pick up and leave instead. Oh wait, that's your specialty," he snapped, his eyes sharp and filled with years of hurt. She'd never considered this, that he'd be angry with her – even now, years after she left Roswell.

"Can we not?"

Tess' question came out more like a plea and she winced at how desperate she sounded to avoid the conversation. She just didn't want to rehash the past yet; he'd just shown up out of nowhere, right when she'd all but convinced herself that she'd never see him again.

"I see you've changed a lot." His voice was jarring, pain-filled and hateful, as his eyes narrowed, cutting into her flesh.

Did he really? Could he really hate her?

"I suppose I deserve that." She whispered, her breath hitching in her throat as she forced down the tears that were threatening to spill. This was the choice she’d made – she just never assumed it’d come back to haunt her.

Michael was supposed to have moved on, forgotten about her – and she was supposed to be alone. But she was quickly learning that her assumptions were wrong.

"You could have at least told me."

She opened and shut her mouth a few times, mulling it over. She could have – it must have been hard waking up and finding her gone, but that had been the plan. If she’d seen him she never would have left Roswell, and they wouldn’t even be having this conversation.

"Would you have let me go?"

She knew the answer, but she needed him to verbalize it. Maybe time had changed him – maybe he _got_ it on some level now. Maybe he understood that while she should have told him she couldn’t have left if she had.

"No!"

His booming declaration, possessive and like an animal marking it territory broke her out of her melancholy. How dare he! She was doing what she _had_ to so that he could live. So that they all could – and he wouldn’t even consider the value in it? Sure they had been discussing hypotheticals where he actually got a say – but she had expected, no, prayed, for something better.

"Exactly!" Tess huffed, glaring at him in an attempt to mask just how much his anger hurt her. She thought she'd buried this part of her life back in LA, with all the alcohol and boyfriends and parties – thankfully, adverse side effects with alcoholic beverages were limited to male Antarians.

Pivoting, she reluctantly stepped back, only to feel Michael’s hand clamp down on her shoulder, spinning her back to him. Annoyed, she wrenched her body away from him, unwilling to let him see what she’d gone through. Although she controlled her abilities better now, kept herself more guarded, seeing him again had awakened parts of her soul that had laid dormant since leaving Roswell and she didn’t trust herself to maintain control.

Michael looked like he was about to say something when that little kid ran up to them, a grin plastered on his face as white cream dripped down his fingers.

"Look! It's a cookie sandwich with chocolate chips in it!" The boy proclaimed, waving his melting ice cream in the air for Michael to see.

"That's great," Michael muttered, unable to feign excitement over being interrupted – he gave her a pointed look indicating that their conversation was far from over, despite the momentary invasion of a third party.

"Hi, I'm Andrew." The boy piped up, turning his attention away from his ice cream, and she found herself wishing she had a napkin as he stuck his chubby hand up in a wave.

"Nice to meet you," Tess returned, uncertain which name she should give him so she settled on neither.

"You're pretty."

"Thanks."

"He yours?" Tess mouthed, hoping that the boy wouldn't notice her line of questioning. The last thing she needed was a boy asking twenty questions on why she was questioning who his _daddy_ was when he was in front of them.

"Hell no!" Michael boomed, shock resonating on his face that she'd even asked. A smirk flashed across her face as Andrew indignantly crossed his arms against his chest, clearly ready to lecture Michael about swearing again. "Isabel's – I'm just here to drop him off with his dad because she's too pregnant to fly."

Exhaling, she was shocked with how relieved she was at learning that Michael wasn’t a father, or at the very least, she wasn’t faced with his progeny. She’d never considered children before, a life spent in hiding forced her to bury those thoughts, and if she were being honest – the only man she’d have considered raising children with was in front of her.

God, she’d left him ten years ago – and yet, not even an hour after seeing him again, she was reflecting on having his _children_. Weak, Harding, weak.

"That's another one Michael! Mommy's going to wash your mouth out with soap!"

"I'd like to see her try," Michael mumbled under his breath, causing Tess to smirk at the mental image of Isabel chasing him around the kitchen with a bar of soap.

"Who's the dad?"

"Jesse – some lawyer she met senior year. She's with Valenti now."

"Anything, you know?" It was the question that begged to be answered – clearly she’d been able to have a baby with a human, but a part of her wanted to know if there were any risks. These were the questions she should be asking Kal, but she’d rather not deal with the veiled accusations. He knew more about what she went through, leaving Michael, than anyone – and random questions about babies and birth would have raised his suspicions.

"No."

"That's a relief. And I hope by Valenti you mean Kyle,” she teased, idly wondering what Kyle was doing these days, other than Isabel. It was good that he finally got the girl, at the very least. She thought about him a lot, he was a part of the closest thing she had t o a family in Roswell, a pseudo brother who might have been something else, if Michael weren’t around.

"Blondie, she likes them older, but not from the senior center."

"Yeah, well I live in the sleaze capitol of the world now." She liked to joke about Washington, with all its scandals and famed tales of the old boys club. Sure the Democrats were in power now, both in the executive and in congress, but reputations were hard to break.

"I thought that'd be Vegas – by the way, Parker and Max got married there when they were 19."

She paused mid-stride, taking a moment to reflect on what he said – Little Lizzie Parker and Mr. Straight and Narrow eloped. To Vegas. And they weren’t even twenty, at the time. She was sure that the rumor mills were flying with that – even now, ten years later.

It made her wonder what they said about her ‘death.’ _That blonde hussy got what was coming – first she tries to get with that nice Max Evans, then it was the Sheriff’s son, and didn’t she have a thing for that Guerin boy? She certainly got around, didn’t she?_

Yet another reason she liked city life – anonymity.

Realizing she’d been quiet a beat too long Tess opened her mouth, laughter spilling out as her eyes danced in the sunlight. She missed this – laughing, a shared past, history. It was like Joni Mitchell said, “you don’t know what you got til it’s gone.”

"Look at you! You've become the town gossip!"

"Trying to make small talk so I don't get fined any more money," he said pointedly and she frowned. Her rejoinder died on her tongue as she noticed the young boy that was now sandwiching himself between them.

Blinking, she smiled awkwardly, settling her arms down at her sides, mentally noting how close she’d been to touching him, drawing him in. That wasn’t her place anymore – a sacrifice for the greater good.

"Ah," she breathed in an attempt to sound aloof as he smirked at her, hazel eyes darkening with mischief and things unsaid. Why did he have to look so damn good? He probably had some girlfriend in Roswell, who was nice and normal and didn’t _leave him_.

"Plus it's hard to forget being the best man at a wedding featuring an Elvis impersonator."

"You're kidding!" Shrieking, blood rushed to Tess’ cheeks as she realized just how loud she’d been. Her blue eyes danced as he gave her a half smirk and stepped closer, his mouth finding her ear.

"I'm not that creative," he whispered and pulled back slowly as she shivered, warm puffs of air brushing against her skin. Why were they doing this? It’d been ten years – they couldn’t.

It wasn’t like they’d even been together that long, anyway. So why did it feel so **right** to be like this with Michael again?

Stepping backward, she smoothed her hair, tying it back behind her in a lazy ponytail. Inhaling, she crossed her arms against her chest and grinned. "So, important question – fat or skinny Elvis?"

"Fat. And Asian."

She opened her mouth to respond when an image of a sumo wrestler in white, glittery polyester danced in her head. Giggling, she watched as he nodded his head, bursting into fits of laughter as she wondered whether or not he tried to sing “Love Me Tender” while bursting through his getup.

To think – she’d been convinced he was her one true love, her destiny was insane. She would never have done something so tacky. But, at least they were happy, right?

Except, it was the kind of thing she’d have done, once. Not as a romantic spur of the moment thing, but to mock the entire institution. It was the kind of thing she probably would have laughed about with Michael, afterward.

Shit, she had to stop doing this.

_Fat Asian Elvis_ she reminded herself, laughing as she imagined the wedding dress Liz wore. She’d been out to Vegas once, with a bunch of girls from school and while they had some nice dresses at the shops, most of it was trash. Liz Parker, stripper chic, if that wasn’t an oxymoron – but it was incredibly hilarious.

"Sorry I missed it,” Tess sighed, getting control of her laughter before blanching, realizing what she’d just admitted. Opening her mouth to correct her comment, she forced it shut as his glare burned her flesh, the momentary reverie shattered.

"You were playing dead,” he spat, glancing momentarily down at the forgotten child who was busy digging in the dirt, bored with the two of them.

Incensed, she raised an eyebrow and glared at him – how dare he think that she was _playing_ anything! She hadn’t wanted this – and he fucking **knew** that it was all a rouse.

"You knew I was alive!" God, did she have to sound so desperate? She was screaming, forcing tears back behind her eyes and all he could do was glare.

Why the hell was this reunion so bipolar? _Oh wait, because you opened your damn mouth_ , she groaned, chastising herself.

"I _hoped_ you were alive,” Michael corrected and she felt the air expel from her gut. Another verbal jab that as eating away at her carefully constructed idea of what, exactly, he had gone through in the wake of her disappearance.

She had fucking written him. How could he not – and she blanched, remembering she’d stopped.

Unwilling to concede the argument and in desperate need of some indication that she hadn’t been terribly wrong all these years, Tess replied, "I wrote you every month for at least a year and a half – I wanted you to get why I left."

Pleading, she gripped at her hair, threading her fingers between the long curls and pulling, hard. She’d always imagined that he’d get it – she’d poured her heart into those post cards, veiled depictions of what, exactly, she had done and why.

She was worried about being found out – if she _knew_ Nicholas was going to come anyway, at the time, she would have been more upfront.

And then Kal came and told her to stop, and she had, if only because she was so fucking scared that she’d hurt him.

If only she realized she already had.

Fucking ridiculous and poetic – Tess Harding, never gets what she wants. He’d lived, she’d lived, but they were both miserable and he hated her – if that wasn’t a Pyrrhic victory. Angry tears slipped down her cheek and she batted them away. The last thing she needed was for him to see her cry.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Andrew raced forward, toward a tall, darker man whom she assumed was his father – Jerome? Jared? Jesse? That was it. He was kind of handsome, in a metrosexual way. But Kyle was better – not that she was biased or anything.

"Daddy!" The boy screamed, launching himself into his father’s arms and dragging him away before Michael could say anything. She didn’t blame him – if she had the chance, she wasn’t sure she’d stick around either.

"Bye Andrew." Michael called after them as he grabbed her wrist and dragged her behind him, possessive and demanding as he jerked her forward, off the grass and toward the street.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from "Nineteen" by Tegan and Sara

_Flew home, back to where we met  
Stayed inside I was so upset  
I cooked up a plan, so good except  
I was all alone  
You were all I had  
Love you  
You were all mine_

It took her a second to recover, the feel of his course skin on her arm brought back too many memories – casual touches and for a second, it was like she was sixteen again. A car whizzed by, followed by horns blaring in a jarring cacophony and just like that – she was back in the present.

Wrenching her arm away from him, Tess jerked backward, stumbling slightly as the brief flicker of a connection faded and she found herself sighing in relief that he hadn't managed to see anything. Straightening herself out, blue eyes darkened as he stood territorially over her and she fought the urge to smack him. How **dare** he touch her like that when he knew what it could do – they weren't the same people they were ten years ago, and she didn't feel comfortable letting him know everything.

Those damn flashes were so unpredictable – and he might have seen her with another guy. God, why did she care?

_Because half of the time you were thinking about him, dumbass_ , she groaned as her self-loathing grew. Why now? Why today?

And why the hell did he have to look so good?

Pathetic, **Langley** , pathetic. It was a weak attempt to remind herself of who she'd become, and who she wasn't – his girlfriend, or even his friend. They were just two people who used to know each other.

She opened her mouth to say something as he reached for her wrist and she stepped backward, almost hitting a vendor cart. Muttering some apology, Tess tried to give Michael a pointed look, but stopped when she saw the hurt reflected back in his gaze.

"How can you think – how, why the fuck did you leave like that!" He boomed, falling over his words as ten years of unaddressed anger bubbled to the surface.

"I **had** to Michael! What? Do you think I wanted to do it?" Tess stressed, trying to stay calm but failing miserably, her guilt and frustration eating at her – she wished that she was unaffected, aloof and calm about it all. And maybe in another lifetime she would have been, but falling in love with him at sixteen changed all that.

Who knew that loving another alien would make her more human? And the thing that killed her was that she couldn't hate him for it.

"You sure as fuck didn't want to fight."

It was a shot to the gut and her cheeks were wet before she even realized what was happening. Was this what he thought? Really?

"Newsflash Michael – I fought. I lost! It was either try to leave and protect the three of you or end up being responsible for killing everyone I **love**!" She snapped, indignant as hot tears fell down her cheek as she swallowed a sob that welled in her throat.

Maybe this was what Kal meant when he said to let this all stay in the past. Not that she had a choice, except, maybe using her powers to get away. But, she had held onto some idyllic fantasy where he would somehow understand why she'd gone through with it all.

How could she have ever been that stupid?

"What do you want? A medal? I heard they give out lots of them here."

"Why not start with dropping the sarcasm?"

Wait, what? Had that really just come out of her mouth? Seriously? God, she had to stop talking, at least without thinking. She was the queen of sarcasm – and Michael knew it.

Not that she needed the additional confirmation, but his raised eyebrow said enough.

"Part of my charm," Michael returned, but it sounded harsh, another reminder that the light nature of their repartee disappeared about the same time she did.

Clearly, that line she gave about having no regrets because life was too short would have to be revised.

"Is that what it's called?" She teased, trying to move the conversation away from another argument. It was a shot in the dark, a desperate attempt to rekindle some part of who they used to be – or at least, get him to smile.

"You never used to mind," he accused, raking a hand through his long hair in frustration, hurt flashing momentarily across his face.

Shit. Her attempt at humor had fallen flat and now he was back to this, dancing close to the edge of the conversation she desperately wanted to avoid. The last thing she needed was to rehash the past again – they'd lived an entire decade apart, hell she had a boyfriend to consider.

Oh, fuck, **Matt**.

God, she was an idiot. Here she was, falling into old patterns with her ex-boyfriend when her loyal, dependable, slob of a boyfriend was trying to get her to move in with him. Of course, she was the one with the money, and the better place, but she had a _cat_ and he was desperate for her to give it up.

Michael probably wouldn't make her choose between a cat and him. And she probably wouldn't even think twice about picking him, if he ever asked.

Ugh, why was she even comparing Matt to Michael anyway? Michael hated her – and she could understand it.

"Stop," Tess groaned, unsure if she was speaking to Michael or to herself as she rooted her feet in place, rolling her eyes in annoyance as a tourist nearly ran into her. D.C. was so not the best place for this – then again, it was better than Roswell, if only because it was just the two of them and not the whole gang weighing in.

"You don't get to call the shots here," Michael returned, his delivery icy and dispassionate, as if she were just a thing and not someone who had once been his friend. Maybe this was why she never stayed friends with her exes – or even bothered to see them again.

But, then again, the rest of her boyfriends weren't serious, except well, her current one, and none of them shared the same DNA, or home planet.

Small minor points, really.

"I'm not – god! I've just – It's been ten years. Can we not argue about this? Please?" She sounded desperate – but it was the first thing that came stumbling out of her mouth. The explanation mangled as she stared at him, her eyes wet with frustrated tears as she raked a hand through her curls, willing herself to find something eloquent to say.

"That's the problem, Tess. It's been **ten years**!" He shot back, angry and annoyed and hurt. Why couldn't he, why did he blame her?

Because you ran out on him after the sex, like they do in a B movie, you moron. Oh, hindsight, if only you were more useful before the results of my decisions were made clear, she groaned.

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry? You know that I am – but if I had to do it all over again I would." Screaming in vain to drive home her point, her palms glued to her hips as she stared up at him. As much as she shouldn't have left him without a word all those years ago, he shouldn't blame her for everything.

He had to fucking get it, if for his own sake. And that meant opening her big mouth and talking, really talking, without the shock inherent in such an attack. Of course, it didn't mean that she wasn't nervous as hell. What if he heard everything and still hated her.

Well, then, Matt would have to deal with her tears and some lie about being on the rag. God, she was already planning on lying to her boyfriend, and not about **the** one intergalactic thing that was okay to lie about. This wasn't good, probably even worse than his insistence that she get rid of the cat.

Of course, nothing was happening with her and Michael. But still he was her ex-boyfriend, who she'd stupidly called her first love one night over a bottle of tequila and too many beers at some Super Bowl party she pretended to enjoy.

And Matt wouldn't really like that she suddenly ran into him again – he had this theory that you never got over anyone you dated seriously, and that was why most people didn't talk.

She told him it was silly, at the time, but she was suddenly seeing that there was some merit to the theory.

_Stop it_ , Tess admonished herself and blinked as Michael opened and shut his mouth and asked one simple question.

"Why?"

_Why?_ _ **Why**_ Who was he trying to kid here? Granted, he hadn't experienced anything first hand, but he had seen those stupid flashing that she was giving off. Oh, right, he was asking about the other part of her statement.

Had she really gotten this bad at reading him? Then again, she'd fucked this being noble thing up majorly, so one could say that she never read him right at all.

But that was just depressing, and probably fair. Then again, he was alive, damn it!

"Because you're alive! I couldn't have – I could have handled it better, but I couldn't have lived with myself if I was responsible for _that_!”

If that wasn't honesty, she wasn't sure what else she could say to him to convince him that she wasn't out to break his heart. If only their lives had been different. Maybe, if there was no destiny, no powers, no Nicholas and Khivar, they'd be married by now.

Ugh, fucking hypotheticals were worthless, and yet far too easy to fall into – seriously, what good did it do except bring on the depression?

"If you'd stayed…"

God damn it, Michael.

"You'd be dead!" She interjected, her voice loud and forceful, praying that this would be the end of this train of thought. She didn't want to think about it, on the one hand, there were picket fences, and on the other was her taking a pick axe to his head.

Tess wasn't a gambler, but considering what she'd been through, she knew that door number two was the other future.

It didn't stop her from playing the _what if_ game. Usually, during the Notebook or some other over dramatized movie, god that scene with the two of them in the senior center right before the end killed her every time.

"You don't know that," Michael said finally, his voice softer, as if her forceful proclamation had finally caused him to reevaluate her point of view.

"Michael, I do," she replied, her voice no heavier than a whisper as her gaze wavered slightly; the pinpricks of unshed tears biting at the corners of her eyes.

"How?"

"I – okay, do you really want to hear this?" She questioned, the back of her hand rubbing her eyes as she forced her emotions down. Tess knew that it was in vain, but it at least helped her focus, for the moment.

"Yes," Michael answered, his voice lifting, making his response sound more like a question than an affirmation. It took her a second to register what he was saying without words, but the second she figured it out, Tess' cheeks flushed, ashamed and embarrassed.

Why would you think that I wouldn't want to hear this?

This whole thing was incredibly awkward and nothing like some cinematic get together with tears and hugs and conveniently forgetting ten years of pain and suffering.

Fucking Hollywood. She'd have to whine to Kal later about cinematic bullshit – and then he'd bring up that he produced American History X. God that movie was shot so fucking well – even if Ed Norton was a prick about his screen time.

Stop stalling.

"Okay, um, stop me if this gets confusing."

Really worked hard at the stopping stalling thing, didn't you Tess?

"Would you quit it?"

"Quit what?"

"Stalling."

Fuck – he totally noticed. She might not be able to read him anymore, but he sure could fucking read her. God damn it!

"Sorry – it's just weird, you know? Anyway – um," she drawled, an awkward laugh escaping from her throat. She'd never expected to be here, facing him – and she wasn't prepared. What, exactly, do you say to the one person you've probably ever truly loved ten years later? She mused, raking a hand through her hair as she stared up at him, noticing the momentary desire that flickered across his gaze.

What did that even mean? Probably nothing. And she had to get through this – if she dwelled on something she might have seen she'd never finish.

"You know how some people who claim to be abducted are missing time and in some random city?"

Alien experience meets alien metaphor – it would be hilarious if it weren't so sad.

"Yeah," Michael drawled, his uncertainty apparent in his gaze. Okay, maybe this was a bad approach, but she was already halfway there and it sort of made sense when Kal explained it to her like this.

Then again, she wasn’t, exactly, thinking logically at the time. So maybe the overextended metaphor worked better. Shivering, she rubbed her hands against her bare arms, she hated this whole period of her life.

"What Nicholas did – it's kind of like that. He found a way to take over my body so that I couldn't remember anything. The way that Kal – he's someone that I met in LA…"

"I know all about Kal," Michael interjected, his anger palpable as her lips thinned into a frown. How did Michael know Kal – and what did he do to him to produce that response?

And why the **hell** didn't Kal tell her about it? He knew how much Michael meant to her!

_Because he did know how much he meant to you_ , she reasoned, realizing that in his own fucked up way he was protecting her.

God this sucked.

"You do?" She asked, masking her shock at his disclosure with genuine interest. This was the story she wanted to hear – Michael meets Kal, not, rehashing the poor Tess Harding faked her death and here is the life she lead for the past ten years as billionaire and movie mogul Kal Langley’s daughter story.

Not that she really had a choice in the matter. At least not if she ever wanted to talk to Michael again.

And she did want to talk to him again. Shit, she was getting nervous – it wasn’t like she was 11 and asking, “do you like me? Check yes or no.” She was a grown woman dealing with an ex-boyfriend – err **the** ex-boyfriend. The only one that knew who she really was, anyway.

Or experienced anything that she had gone through in Roswell, or the only boyfriend that she cared about – she was totally fucking breaking up with Matt.

Even though the sex was good and even if Michael never wanted to see her again – she’d still have her cat. And she’d be a hot crazy cat woman.

"Later," Michael returned gruffly, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Okay," she answered, suspicious. Back to the topic at hand. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Anyway, what Nicholas does – it starts out like that – missing time; you're there, in one place, and your mind is in another,” she began, the nervous beat of her heart echoing in her ears. “But he also infects your mind, kind of like a virus. So if he gets in there deep enough, or does it enough, basically you become like a slave to him."

"What?"

Fuck. He wasn’t getting it – or maybe he was, she couldn’t look at him – she couldn’t look at anything. If she did, she’d start thinking about that day with Nicholas, when he shoved images of what could have been into her head.

Inhaling, Tess steadied herself as she stared at her feet, the brown thongs of her sandals against her feet growing more interesting as her dread built. She’d never had to talk about this before – she had questions, Kal had answers, and then that was it. Instantly buried, instantly forgotten.

"He rots your mind – and the end result is that anything left is depraved and submissive to him, and I guess Khivar too, but I never asked asked. I was really close to that point when I left, Michael. And those images you saw when you touched me – do you remember them?"

_Please don’t make me rehash them_ , she prayed, internally invoking every deity she could think of to prevent that torture. Nothing like rehashing the many ways you could kill someone with your ex-boyfriend.

“Not something I would forget, Tess,” he returned, annoyed and hurt by her words.

Ouch. Well, at least it didn’t mean a brutal retelling of the ways she had seen herself killing him. Score one for common decency.

"Well, the broken glass and shit in that bathroom – that was all real. Nicholas attacked me whenever we went to Copper Summit, either to get me to lose my strength or for his own sick joy. I’m not sure,” Tess began, awkwardly shifting her weight from side to side as she pushed an errant curl off her face as she stared past him, unable to look him in the face. She couldn’t look at him – she was weak, not worthy of the four square, of him – and her fucking departure from Roswell only hurt him more.

God, she hated feeling like this – remembering just how pathetic she was.

“But the second thing – with the gun? That was what he planned to do, after he took control. I think he thought that he was going to have control, after that. And he did, for a while – there are things that I don’t remember that happened between leaving the bathroom and getting into the Jetta,” she shivered, rubbing her hands against her bare arms, suddenly feeling cold and naked as his eyes bore into her flesh.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the taste of bile played on her tongue and she swallowed, hard, to keep herself from vomiting over Constitution Avenue.

“I left, thinking that it would be over if I just got out of town,” she continued, deciding it was best to omit that in her original plan, she was going to kill herself. “And it was fine, for a while. I wrote those post cards to you and I had this new life in California. I was lonely, but I was safe, and so were all of you.”

She heard him shuffle his feat and caught Michael moving closer, out of the corner of her eye. Watching the cars fly by behind him, Tess took a step backward, away from him. She needed space to keep what little control she had left; she knew that much, as her eyes welled with tears.

“One day, Nicholas came after me to finish what he started in Arizona. I don’t remember much of it, just the way his hands ripped at my hair, my skin, how dirty I felt and this all-encompassing fear. And then the next think I remember is waking up in Kal’s place, scared, and alone. He… he said it was a miracle I survived, that I came out of it at all.”

Her tears spilled over and sobs wracked her body, the idea that she should have, that she had been so close to killing him – all of them. Stiffening, she felt Michael’s arms wrap around her, drawing her in and she inhaled, he still smelt the same as he had ten years ago. And even though she had no right – it felt so good to feel him around her, if only for a moment.

Wiping her eyes, she stepped backward, away from him as she looked into his eyes for the first time since she’d begun discussing what happened to her, back then. “Sorry, I’ve never really told anyone about that, before, and the idea that I was so close… god, that I should have been dead, err I don’t know a zombie? It scares the crap out of me.”

Michael merely nodded his head, gently brushing his hand against her back in an attempt to say without words that he understood. Any other time she would have raised an eyebrow, she simply leaned into his touch, humbled by any support he was willing to give her.

“I never liked horror movies,” she added in an attempt to lighten the mood. “So how'd you find out about Kal?"

Finally, a change of subject. And the answers that she really wanted.

Michael looked at her quizzically for a moment before he relented. It was only fair, she told him her story, so he should tell his. And she was grateful for the reprieve.

"I was in LA, looking for you – I did that a lot, spent weekends away, looking. And once your post cards were marked from the area, I knew you were there. But then you stopped writing."

Fuck. So he did get them, and that was probably how Nicholas found her – but then that was discounting the whole Nasedo factor in her identity at the time.

"Kal told me not to – that they could track me by postmarks, I guess he was right," she mumbled, her shoulders drooping in resignation.

"Maybe. But that's not how I found him."

"How did you?" She questioned, excited and nervous at the same time. She wasn’t sure why she cared so much, except for the fact that there was something comforting and nerve-racking about someone finding out about you when you worked so hard at anonymity.

"I saw this girl who looked a lot like you with brown hair in a bit part in a movie that was produced by Kal Langley – and I had to know. So I hunted him down and demanded he tell me about her – the only thing I got was thrown against the wall and a warning to leave his daughter alone. That was you, wasn't it?"

She had been there maybe three months when they shot that thing. Kal had thought, originally, that the best way to avoid the aliens was to become so famous that they couldn’t do anything to her. And she was so desperate for anything that would keep her safe, give her a purpose, she’d agreed without a second thought. And so they had this plan for her to go into acting, until, Kal called it off.

"Yeah – but I never thought, god."

So that’s why he did it – came home one day and said, “I don’t want you acting anymore.” Tess’d asked why, and he’d made some comment about her being terrible. And she’d thought, maybe, just maybe, she was – when she wasn’t dreading that she’d been found, that Nicholas lived, despite veiled hints to the contrary.

"I thought he was supposed to recognize us – protect us."

"He is, but I relieved him of his duties, I guess, after he saved my life,” she shrugged, it was so weird, knowing Kal, to hear anyone say that he was obligated to do anything except make movies. But Michael had a point. Kal, like Nasedo, was born a protector, and as such, he should have known who Michael was, and by knowing her, know how much he meant to her.

Hell, he probably did, but like he’d told her more than once, she was his primary concern, and he believed that the skins were watching the rest of them, waiting for her return. God, sometimes, she really hated being an alien, which was ironic, because once upon a time, it was the only thing she had, she clung to it, and wore it like a trophy.

“I wanted to make sure he didn't feel obligated to protect me, he hated this, you know? Being forced to leave his family to come to Earth and protect us. Then, after I came back into his life, because he sensed that I was close and that I was dying – he resented me because he thought I'd force him to give up his life here too. So I just told him he didn't have to do it anymore – that he was free, or whatever. And before I knew it something _alien_ happened and he was so grateful."

To quote Led Zeppelin, “ramble on.” Her nervousness was showing, and after crying into Michael’s shirt, she really didn’t care that much. Some of the tension had lifted after that, either because she was being open with him or because he was finally getting how much that still upset her, but it was working, which was nice.

"So he doesn't protect us anymore?” Michael’s question was peppered with sadness and disappointment, tempered with age.

He never talked about this part of himself, but she knew that he’d always been looking for an alien he could look up to, view as a father figure. She assumed that it had a lot to do with Hank, because although he hadn’t said anything when she told him about Nasedo, she could tell that his betrayal hurt him almost as much as it hurt her.

"No, he does, but he doesn't have to – I gave him back his freewill. That’s what he had been so grateful for that day."

"Excuse me?"

Ugh, she phrased that wrong, and he was annoyed. She could write a policy brief, but everything that came out of her mouth of this was far from eloquent. She was so fucking nervous, he was making her uncomfortable, this was uncomfortable – she’d spent ten years pretending to be someone else, and now she had to explain who “Tess Harding” was now, when she ceased to exist once she was outside of Roswell’s City Limits.

Breathe.

"Kal – he's my protector. Well, I guess he's Max's too, but I never really asked. After I was at his place for a few days, he explained it all to me – and I couldn't help but feel guilty. Did you know that he couldn't sense anything? All he could smell is the really strong stuff – Tabasco, lemons, chlorine. So, I helped him do that, be more human. It was the least I could do, you know?"

Apprehensively threading a curl through her fingers, she stared at him, blue meeting brown as she waited for a response to her chatter. Kal was the closest thing she had to a father – and to see Michael like this, questioning her, questioning him – it was hard to deal with. She never was good at this, articulating feelings, and once upon a time they could sense what each other felt.

Right, in that universe that existed _ten years ago_. She didn’t smoke, but she could certainly use a cigarette right now.

"He really seemed to care about you – when I asked about you, I could tell," Michael said finally, his voice measured and devoid of emotion.

Not great, but she knew it was the best she was probably going to get. Michael was pissed that he’d lied to him about her – among other things. And, well, she wasn’t sure what to say to that, just like how she was sure he didn’t know what to say about Kal.

"He's like a father to me. I mean, we bonded out of necessity, but he's helped, a lot."

"Yeah?"

"I was a mess when I left you – I mean, I still am, but he helped me find a way to live without you, because I had to. Like, actually have a life, not do what I was doing before – existing. And he was the one who made me go to college, you know? He's the reason I'm here."

In more ways than I can count, she added, immediately chastising herself for not calling in a few days. Kal’d be worried, even if he said he wasn’t. Hell, he was the one who didn’t want her going to the East Coast, and had said that there was some shit in New York City he wanted her to stay out of – so they’d compromised on DC.

In the end, it had been one of the best decisions Tess’d made, even if she’d still never seen the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building. No threat of aliens, a chance to do something real with her life, and she was **good** at her job.

"What are you up to these days, anyway?”

Oh thank god! A change of subject – even if the answer was depressing. Work, drinking, arguing about the cat – she used to travel, but she started dating Matt, who didn’t care about going anywhere outside of the metro area and then she just got the promotion, but mostly, it was Matt’s hatred of flying that stopped her.

Not that she had the time, but it’d be nice to go back to France or England – or someplace random like Tanzania, and go on a safari. Tess hated zoos, something about seeing animals in cages gave her the creeps – maybe because she could have easily been put in one, studied and examined and put on display as the amazing alien hybrid! So, seeing zebras and giraffes in the wild would be cool.

"I work for a non-profit – I just got promoted, actually. We do a lot with mental health, I felt like I needed to do something like that, after,” she trailed off at the end, letting the silence speak for itself.

"I never would have thought, but it suits you,” Michael admitted, following her down the street and up into downtown.

God, why did such a simple comment make her break out into a grin? It wasn’t congratulatory, just that it suited her, her job, and by extension her life. It was quiet acceptance of what she’d done – Michael always managed to say one thing and his words carried many emotions, meanings.

It was one of the things she had loved about him – still loved about him. He was deep even when he was trying not to be – and unlike other people, he was sincere about it.

"Yeah, I mean, most people think that lobbyists are all bad – but we like to think that we're making a difference. So what do you do?"

"I paint."

"Really? That's awesome, Michael," Tess smiled, proud of him. He hadn’t told her anything about his love for art, but she did remember that it was one of the few classes he rarely skipped.

And it was nice to hear that he was doing something that he liked and not like working security – so did he go to college? Art school? She had so many questions.

"Eh, it pays the bills – and it gives me time to go off on my own, you know?" Michael was downplaying it – the spark in his eyes gave him away, as did the half smile that momentarily grazed his features.

He was so damn sexy when he did that.

"Yeah, do you just paint or is there something else?"

Ugh, could my voice be any breathier? Tess groaned, as she stepped slightly ahead of him – she had to stop this. And the subtle implication that she was more interested in if he **had** someone else? Not helping.

Michael didn’t want her like that – he’d only spent time looking for her because he wanted to make sure she was okay. He was a protector, it was encoded in his fucking DNA, and wasting any time thinking that he still wanted any part of her mess was a waste of time.

Now if she could only turn off her heart, like it had a switch that could be activated at her convenience. That would make all of this infinitely easier.

"I help Mr. P keep up the Crash – he's getting old and with Max and Liz in Boston…”

"They're in Boston?" Tess interjected, her interest piqued. She’d known that Liz was obsessed with going to Harvard – hell, everyone in Roswell, and maybe even Chaves County knew that. But she had always thought the two would come back after college.

Between the Elvis wedding and the east coast living – Max and Liz were the ones who surprised her the most.

"Yeah, Liz is in Med School at Harvard and Max is getting his JD at Boston College."

Oh, figures they wouldn’t have done the one degree and done thing. All she knew was she’d never be using Max Evans as her lawyer.

"Cool – and Isabel and Kyle are in Roswell, right?" Well, they would have to be, given that Michael was hauling Isabel’s first born across the country, since she was pregnant.

"Yeah. The oompa loompa is trying to play long arm of the law. And Maria and Alex are touring right now."

Yes indeed they were, she’d seen them a few weeks ago with some of her friends. Though, she hadn’t used the “Kal Langley’s daughter” card to get backstage like she normally did. Her friends had been mildly annoyed, but she was “tired.”

The truth was – she didn’t want to deal with her past. Fat lot of good that did.

"I know."

"Excuse me?"

"I helped them get their record deal," Tess supplied and smirked as Michael’s eyes grew wide at her blasé delivery. He had no idea that her name meant something to people, even before she’d grown up and moved away and made a name for herself lobbying for mental health issues.

It was refreshing.

"How?"

"People think my dad is Kal Langley – I told some label rep to go to their show in Santa Fe and he did. The rest is history."

That was how it worked for her in California. At first it’d been exciting, then mundane, and after a while she just wasn’t sure that anything she did was because of her own abilities, and not her “father”. She’d never told Kal, but that was the main reason she’d moved out to the East Coast.

"That's, uh, nice of you," Michael returned, confused.

He still didn’t get it – and for whatever reason that made her feel even better about everything.

"Thanks – so how is Roswell?"

"Fine, you know? It's Roswell."

Right. The dairy capital of the southwest! Nothing but cows, desert and aliens – how could she ever forget?

"Why'd you stay?" Tess asked, the question bubbling out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about what she was saying.

"I hoped you'd come back," Michael answered, his voice level and lacking any trace of sarcasm.

Wait. _What_?

She had to be hearing things – he stayed in Roswell, New Mexico waiting to see if she’d show up?

What does that even mean? And why did she feel like grinning and picking at a flower while playing the _loves me, loves me not_ game like she was a fucking Disney princess?

Because he still has feelings for you, idiot.

"Oh."

Jesus, he basically admits to waiting ten years for you, and all you can fucking say is oh? You really know how to kick a man when he’s down, don’t you, Langley?

She really was bad at this. But she couldn’t be the only reason that he stayed in Roswell, right? The granolith and the pod chamber and all that crap had to be part of it, right?

"God! Why didn't you come back?" Michael exclaimed, angrily kicking a can into the street before stopping and facing her.

She shivered as he towered over her, a million different emotions running through her as she stared into his dark eyes. Michael leaned closer, drawing her in and her breath hitched in her throat as his calloused palm spread out against the small of her back.

God, she wanted to just give in and kiss him, but he deserved better than her.

Stepping backward, she lowered her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. She was twenty-six fucking years old! She should have some self control by now – she owed Michael that much.

She’d already broken his heart once – and doing this with him? It would break his heart all over again.

He had a fucking life in Roswell and she was in DC. And, as far as the rest of the Roswell gang and the damn state of New Mexico were concerned – she was _dead_! There was no way this would end well.

So, she just had to be the strong one. Even if she really, **really** wanted to kiss him. And she never stopped loving him.

"You know why I didn't," Tess snapped – it was easier to have him hate her. For both of them.

"I know, but I've missed you."

And that feeling? Her heart melting and breaking into a million pieces. God, she hated Nicholas and aliens and everything – why hadn’t, why couldn’t they have just been normal or at least less enemy prone?

She could be the fat pregnant one now.

Or married by an Elvis impersonator.

Life was _so_ not fair.

"I've missed you too,” she mumbled, surprising herself with her honesty. Hadn’t she just decided, oh, I don’t know, 30 seconds ago that it was better if he **hated** her?

Whatever, honesty train, party of one? She could do this – and maybe she wouldn’t wind up regretting it, either.

“I'm so glad you're here! I know that's weird to say, now, but it didn't seem appropriate earlier. How much time do you have?"

God, now she even sounded like she was sixteen – all she needed was a few extra “likes” and more blush and it’d be perfect.

"My flight leaves in an hour."

Fuck.

"An hour? Shouldn't you be on your way down there?"

Here is your out Michael. And this is where you smile politely, give me your number, even though I still have it memorized and know it’s you because I got drunk and called it last year when Matt and I were on a break to hear your voice from my blocked number.

And you say, keep in touch, and I agree and we don’t.

Any moment now, you’re going to realize what I already know – you’re too fucking good for me.

"I have more important things to do."

"But, you're going to miss your plane!" She blurted out before registering what he really meant.

God, she was an idiot.

"Trying to get rid of me already Harding?"

"No! No."

_Please don’t leave._

"Good," Michael huffed and her eyes widened at his revelation before she forced herself to roll them. She shouldn’t be surprised – he’d tried to kiss her only a few minutes ago. But still, it was nice hearing affirmations that he still liked her.

"So are we going to keep walking around this city or are you going to wine and dine me?" He smirked at her, his walk more confident than it had been when they first ran into one another and she bit down on her lip, combing it with her teeth as she admired him.

"Who says chivalry is dead?" Tess deadpanned, trying to keep her emotions in check. There was no reason to build up his confidence even more – at the current level, it was hot, but the Guerin ego unchecked was a little much – especially since her resistance had waned over their time apart.

"It's 2:00 and I'm _hungry_."

"And ever so patient. Don't worry, there's got to be a Chipotle around here somewhere."

"I come to DC and you're offering me franchised Mexican?" Michael returned, feigning disgust at her suggestion. Who would have thought that someone who still helped out at a diner that served Blood of Alien Smoothies would be a food snob?

"You. Plane, one hour? Remember?"

And here I am, giving you your out again, Michael. Because you are so above the crap that my departure caused, she thought, still somewhat unbelieving that he wanted to stay here with her. That he would give up his damn flight back **home** for her.

"It's the fucking capitol and you're telling me they don't have any good food that isn't from a big corporation?"

Okay, so maybe he would. Or Michael had really become a food snob.

"Damn the man!" Tess exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air before grinning at him and leading him up the street. She wasn’t going to think about whether or not he really wanted to be here with her and bring the banter.

She missed the banter.

"I'm an artist – I can't eat at the Mexican McDonalds, ruins the rep."

"A war on happy meals? And here I thought Grimace was so cute," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes for dramatic effect.

"Just feed me woman," Michael groaned, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Instinctively, she leaned into him, relishing the feel of his arms around her, if only for a moment. "And the woman's movement just keeps ticking backward, first the eight years of the Bush administration, now Michael Guerin is barking at me to feed him. Today Jerry Falwell is smiling in hell."

"I don't see you barefoot and pregnant, so lunch please,” Michael returned, flashing a grin as he brushed a stray piece of hair off her face.

Too much, too much – too bad it felt so fucking good, and comfortable. Stepping away from him, Tess slid her hand in his, unwilling to completely relinquish his touch yet.

It was stupid and silly and completely not right in any sense of the world – but it was nice to pretend like nothing had happened. That they still were the same people they had been ten years ago and they could just pick up where they left off.

"Since you asked so nicely, there's this place that's famous for its chili."

"Spicy?"

"I wouldn't offer you chili if it wasn't," Tess answered, stepping out of his grasp and toward the street. If they were going, they’d need to hail a cab, and she was the one best equipped for that task.

"Good."

"Good? I offer to wine and dine you – and all you say is _good_?"

"Improving my vocabulary isn't a high priority right now," Michael stated, following her as she crossed the street, and she was struck, again, by how right this all felt, even after everything.

"Right."

"It's further away from the airport, though," Tess drawled, her arms crossed against her chest, bracing for him to finally give in to logic and leave her.

It was the safe thing to do.

"Would you shut up about my damn flight?" Michael snapped, visibly annoyed with her constant nagging on the subject.

"Sorry, it's just…"

"Tess, I knew I was going to miss my plane the second I saw you. Y…It's worth it," Michael admitted, stumbling over his words as he awkwardly clawed at his eyebrow

God, she was going to fucking cry. And all because he got choked up and he was always going to stay in DC longer for her. Pathetic.

"Oh,” Tess breathed, unable to find the words to express how much what he said, what he was doing, meant to her. "Even though it's been ten years and I only sent you obscure post cards?"

Holy insecurity, batman!

"I'm over it,” Michael responded with a shrug.

Yeah, right. She didn’t believe that for a second.

"Sure," she huffed, sticking her arm out to hail a cab. He didn’t have to lie to her about coming to terms with what she did all those years ago, it was a lot to deal with – and admittedly, she could have handled it. But she was sixteen and she didn’t know better, then.

Suddenly, Michael pulled on her arm, spinning her toward him, and she met his gaze as her breath hitched in her throat. His emotions laid bare, she found herself drowning in the sadness and love reflected in his toffee colored eyes.

"Look – I don't understand why you didn't tell me, but I finally am starting to understand why you left."

God – he was nothing if not intense, and she knew that he meant every word. Which just made her want to kiss him, or hug him or do one of those girlfriend-type moves that were so not her place anymore.

"I didn't tell you because I couldn't have… I knew, if I saw you, I would have stayed," Tess whispered, her eyes watering with tears as she admitted why she’d left without a word. Sure it was cliché, but Michael had been her rock back then – and if he’d asked her to stay, she would have.

And then they wouldn’t be having this conversation – because in one form or another, they’d be dead. Her mentally, him literally. So, as much as it sucked, she had made the right decision.

Even if it was killing her, thinking about alternative universes where they were happy and together now.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Tragic, huh?"

It was the only thing that she could think of to say to that. Michael had been rendered speechless, or at least had gone back to adopting his high school propensity for one-word answers – and clearly her ability to articulate anything was failing her today.

"We met up again," Michael leered, his breath warm against her cheek as she finally waved down a cab, and lead the way inside, quickly giving the driver the name of the restaurant.

"You've certainly become more optimistic," Tess drawled, running a curl through her index and middle fingers, as she took a quick look at her nails. She had to get a fucking manicure.

"Oh that's me, one fucking ray of sunshine."

That’s more like it. The sarcasm, the banter – it was their version of foreplay. She teased all of her friends, but only Michael was able to keep up with her in the wit department.

"No cloud stands a chance against Michael Guerin?" She perked up, grinning as she remembered that stupid line Max gave Michael whenever they started practicing their powers together.

"Channeling Evans now? What, expecting me to quote Shakespeare and drag you to Vegas?"

No fucking way.

"It was Liz's idea?"

"Yep."

Seriously? Seriously?! No. Fucking. Way. And how could he be so calm about this? This was the most hilariously awful and amazing bit of gossip she’d heard about anyone she knew in Roswell and he was calm about it?

Did he not realize the great mocking potential? How could he not? Or was he just being a tease – that **had** to be it.

"Never would have thought that,” Tess revealed, her cerulean orbs dancing in anticipation of any additional information Michael could give her.

"Tequila makes people do stupid things – poor bastard didn't stand a chance," Michael smirked, crossing his arms against his chest as his eyes fell on her in anticipation.

She knew he was waiting for a reaction – but seriously?

"Oh my god!" she shrieked, pressing her palm against his shoulder, praying that he would keep talking.

Liz Parker was drunk when she got married.

A-maz-ing.

God, the waitress was looking at her funny, but Michael must have ordered something for her, because she was still laughing whenever the girl came back with her drink.

"She sobered up on the way, but it was pretty funny hearing about it from Deluca," Michael added after placing his order

Okay, so Liz was hung over when she got married – she’d take it.

"I bet! Damn,” Tess snickered, sipping on her drink as she gave the waitress her order.

She just had to ask him. It was the fucking question that begged to be answered, and if she didn’t do it now – it would go unsaid. And then where would they be?

"So, I guess we've been dancing around it enough. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, you?"

Oh thank god. And why did that make her feel so damn relieved? If he had a girlfriend, he had a girlfriend – but he was smiling at her. Really smiling, and he seemed extremely interested in her answer.

What to say about Matt? Eh, she was breaking up with him anyway. She just had to hit send on her phone – instant text message breakup. Cruel? Yes. But he had threatened to call the Chinese restaurant on her cat.

Cats are people – err cats, too.

And Michael **didn’t** have a girlfriend. God, she was so fucking pathetic and predictable. But something about being around him again brought it out of her – this awkward goofiness that she wasn’t sure how to deal with.

"I don't have a girlfriend, no." Tess grinned, receiving only a pointed glare for her effort. Well, at least she answered the question, right?

Okay, the hell with it, she grumbled. Here is the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help me god. "I'm single, sort of."

"Sort of? What the hell kind of answer is that?" Michael snapped, glowering from his seat across from her.

An honest one?

"He wants me to get rid of my cat and I've recently come to the conclusion that I love the cat more than him. So, I am sending him a text message because I don’t know what else to do," Tess rambled, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. "That sounds so lame!"

"You're not taking advantage of me in the backseat of a cab to prove the point. I don't think the driver would like it,” Michael shot back, the scowl a distant memory, replaced by a predatory leer and his trademark half smile.

Right, because if he kept looking at her like that they wouldn’t make it to the fucking cab.

"My backup plan! How will I live with myself now that I'm out of ideas?" Tess questioned in mock horror and hitting the send button on her cell.

Officially single!

"It'll be very hard, but you'll manage,” Michael teased, acknowledging that she sent the message with a knowing look.

"Subtlety with the dick jokes – how un-Guerin of you."

"I can be subtle."

Right.

"Says the man who dragged me across the mall."

"Touché," Michael grinned, raising his glass in surrender. Tess 1, Michael 0.

An uneasy silence settled over the two of them and Tess shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she picked at her chili cheese fries.

And this was going so well.

"Okay, so," Tess began, watching as Michael finished his chilidog. "How's your lunch?"

“Spicy, you did good, Harding,” Michael answered with a grin that she didn’t think was quite sincere.

Maybe it was the text message breakup? Was that making him think differently about her? Ugh, why did she care so much? He was just a boy, and she was just a girl.

Right, a boy that she’d never stopped loving, and unexpected circumstances forced her apart from.

Ain’t love grand?

"Okay, I’ve just got to say this, Michael. I’m really glad that I ran into you. I know I said it earlier, but still. I've missed this, hanging out with you. I'd say I missed us, but considering my role in it," her voice grew softer, trailing off as she wiped an errant tear off her face.

"I really am sorry for what this did - what I did to you, Michael." More than you could even begin to understand.

“I know that, now. I think I always… but it killed me that I wasn’t strong enough to help you,” Michael admitted, taking her hand in his and gently squeezing it, which only caused her to cry even more. “I have to ask one more question – why couldn’t Isabel dreamwalk you?”

God, she was a mess, and crying in Ben’s Chili Bowl of all places.

“I blocked her, I blocked all of you – I didn’t want anyone getting hurt because of me. It hurt, cutting that connection, because even though they weren’t that nice to me, they were still part of my family,” her words were measured, matter of fact – she was trying so hard not to cry in earnest, when all she wanted to do was break down in sobs and bask in all the emotions she was feeling.

Michael didn’t hate her.

“Max blames himself, you know, for you leaving? Said it was because he wouldn’t give up Liz for you,” he admitted, his thumb drawing circles on her skin as he continued to hold onto her hand.

Was he – oh my god. That was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard.

She opened and shut her mouth a few times before a loud snort escaped and she burst into laughter. Of all the dumbass things she’d heard in his life, this was certainly close to the top of her list. Max blamed himself because of fucking **destiny**? “It still is all about him, isn’t it?”

Seriously, what the fuck were they _thinking_ when they decreed that Max was her destiny? Max and her? Oil and water.

God, if someone ever said, “you’re my dream girl, Tess”, she’d laugh, or smack them, or something. And this – there were no words for the idiocy of one Max Evans.

“It’s the ears, probably.”

“Uh huh. Him and Dumbo – stars of their own fucking circus,” Tess snapped, growing more annoyed with Max with each passing second. How **dare** he? The nerve – god, no wonder people had overthrown him last go around – what a fucking prick.

Michael, obviously realizing her mounting fury, asked, “Can we not talk about the flying elephant? I just had a good meal with this girl I haven’t stopped thinking about for ten years– and the only balls I want inserted into any conversation are mine.”

“Okay, let’s get out of here. I’ve dined you, wined you on their finest Snapple – I think it’s time I show you my place,” Tess grinned, leading him outside into the September sun, playfully swaying her hips, her ire forgotten.

Life was too short for this crap – she’d already lost ten years with Michael, and she wanted to make up for lost time, that is, if he wanted to – they’d never really established that, except for his suggestive looks and her grins.

“Ms. Harding, are you trying to seduce me?” Michael questioned, grinning lasciviously at her – his eyes darkening in desire.

Mmm – message received.

“Well, Mr. Guerin, would you like me to?” She returned, staring up at him in a challenge.

“Absolutely,” Michael breathed, cupping her cheek as he drew her in, pressing his lips against hers.

She returned in kind, years of desire and passion flowing through her as she moved against him. Her nails digging into his back, Tess let out a moan as his tongue met hers, drawing it out and in again. Raking his bottom lip against her teeth, she felt her body hit the wall, his forehead meeting hers for a moment as they caught their breath.

Warm puffs of air brushed against her face as he reverently played with the strap to her tank top. “We should get a cab,” Tess whispered, her darkened eyes mirroring his – a silent message communicated between them.

Pretty soon, kissing won’t be the only type of PDA going on out here.

“Let’s go home,” Michael mumbled, placing butterfly kisses on her neck.

Nodding, she hailed a cab – not bothering to mention that wherever he was, was home.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long strings of italics are flashbacks; lyrics are to “Intervention” by Arcade Fire

_The king's taken back the throne_  
The useless seed is sown __  
When they say they're cutting off the phone __  
I'll tell 'em you're not home _  
_

_No place to hide_ __  
You were fighting as a soldier on their side  
You're still a soldier in your mind  
Though nothing's on the line 

**2014**

Racing up the hill as gravel ground under his feet, the hard crunch was inaudible over the staccato rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. Time was running out - a realization so trite and yet so daunting that it tore at him, driving him to move faster through the desert.

 _He_ was the only one who could do _this_ \- it was his impetus and his burden. But he was the only one who knew all the players, the motivations, the necessity and the panacea. They all knew that it had something to do with _her_ , but that was where their knowledge ended -- the immediacy of the war had become their primary concern.

But Michael was a soldier, a general, and while it was his job, first and foremost, to protect the rapidly depleting members of his "army" he couldn't forget the objective, even if it was like throwing a hail-mary pass in the super bowl.

There was no room for error.

Khivar's forces were rapidly gaining ground -- and the core group of six had become three – Max, Liz and him. He wore their deaths like a tattoo, scarlet letters reminding him of how he'd failed -- lives that he had an obligation to avenge.

But _her_ death was still the one that pained him the most.

He couldn't think about this now -- he was so close, the pod chamber looming over him as he continued his rushed march toward absolution. If he could do this, he could save the world and Tess at the same time.

It was like he was in that TV show, and Tess was the cheerleader.

But that would mean that he was that Asian guy, Hiro, and he wasn't exactly grateful for this burden -- he needed to stop thinking in metaphors, it was only screwing with his focus.

Brown strands of hair flew in his face, dirty and sweaty as he continued the trek up to the once familiar mountain. He hadn't been here in years; the need to find Tess and the necessity of keeping the chamber's location a secret had prevented him from coming back. Only the two girls had been here since the war started -- making the necessary preparations.

He'd never been good with science -- and they'd needed him to lead this suicide mission.

At least the people who'd recreated him were consistent; Michael mused stifling a mirthless laugh. He'd led a failed army against Khivar in two life times, though, to be fair, his army was just a bunch of rednecks fighting for good ole _freedom_ , whatever the cost.

The rest of them were all dead or enslaved. Khivar's people thought the wealthier ones made better _pets_. Shuddering, he tried to ignore the way his stomach tied in knots thinking about it. Khivar's minions stripped people of their free will, en masse, creating an army of autonomous humans _reprogrammed_ into fighters wholly devoted to Khivar.

It made him sick to think that Tess could have suffered the same fate by Nicholas' hand. They'd never discussed it after they found out about the army, trying to bury themselves in the fight for Earth, but it was constantly there, the silent elephant in the room.

If Nicholas had his way, Tess would have been the leader of Khivar's army.

Michael'd never been more thankful that Kal had been there for her than he had in that moment. He hated fighting enough, years with Hank and his attack on Pierce had taught him at an early age the true price of violence on the soul -- and facing her, he knew, instinctively, he wouldn't still be here.

Hundreds of feet marched in tandem, centuries blanketing the desert as they came closer while the metallic taste of adrenaline masked his panic. They were coming closer, no doubt aware of his presence and determined to destroy him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Cursing, Michael scowled as he propelled himself up the mountain, racing, trying desperately to remain two steps ahead. Stealth no longer an option, he hurled his frame up the rocks, not caring that he might alert the soldiers to his presence -- this was his only shot to end this, and while it was not ideal, he had to do this for her.

Tiny red lines slithered down his palm as he clawed at the rocks, praying that he'd find the only stone that mattered. Why hadn't he fucking paid attention whenever Max did his stupid pass over the rocks?

"Damn it," Michael bellowed, balling his hands into fists and pounding them into the rock, frustrated and desperate as Khivar's army marched toward him. There was no room for failure and yet here he was, screwing up royally and putting the mission in jeopardy.

Whoever thought he was a suitable general clearly was allied against them. He couldn't even find the entrance to the chamber.

Michael Guerin. Eternal fuck up.

If she could see him now -- she'd regret ever tasking him with this. Tess deserved someone who could actually complete this mission.

Sharp, blistering pain cut through him, ripping, splitting skin and nerves overloading as the impact of the blast on his back registered. Stumbling, jerking as his body fell forward, he moaned as his arm shattered against the rocks, darkness overtaking him.

_Raking a hand through his hair, Michael watched as the door turned and Tess walked in. They married two years ago in an elaborate ceremony that neither of them wanted, but went through so Kal could have bragging rights amongst his industry friends about the wedding of his only "daughter."_

_Tess looked beautiful in that white gown, walking down the aisle in Athens, a bunch of producers told her that she should act, and she'd laughed, graciously turning them down. The only regret he had about it all was that he couldn't share that moment with Max or Isabel -- Tess was too afraid that she'd endanger them if they suddenly found out she was alive. Reluctantly, he'd agreed._

_What killed him was that she was right -- the reporters were spending the day cycling through their monologues, a fearful din repeating the latest update from Roswell._

_Aliens were among them._

_"Michael, what is this?" Tess whispered as she stared at the candlelit table and array of flowers in the dining room, a hint of dread hanging on her words as she surveyed the room._

_She was on to him -- he should have known better, Tess knew him better than he knew himself, most of the time._

_"Can't a man cook for his wife?" he responded with a smirk in an attempt to mask the serious nature behind the gesture. His flight was leaving at dawn – from LAX to Albuquerque, he'd drive the three and a half hours down to Roswell. He'd had to book a private jet; the FAA had grounded all commercial flights._

_Michael hadn't had time for questions, Max had ordered him to Roswell, from the disposable cell phone he hadn't used in years, but still kept in case of emergency, and then Kal had been on the other line, telling him what he already knew._

_The enemy had arrived._

_"Uh, yeah, but didn't you catch the news?" Tess returned, crossing her arms against her chest in a challenge as she brushed a long strand of blonde hair off her face._

_"I don't want to talk about that right now."_

_"But Michael, it could be Khivar!" Tess shot back, indignant as he put plates of pasta on the table, refusing to let him pretend like everything was normal, at least for tonight._

_"Please, Tess," Michael returned, his protests weak to his own ears. He just knew if they started this conversation, his last memories of her would be Tess relegating him to the couch, or kicking him out of the house, angry and upset over the news._

_"You know something," she accused, her lips thinning to a pale white line as her arms rested across her chest._

_Michael knew that it was wrong, but this was truly the last thing he needed right now. Max had ordered him back to Roswell, on a call to the disposable cell phone he’d kept for emergencies, ever since he left to find Tess all those years ago, telling him that the news was true and he was needed. Never a question on how he’d been all these years, just a request that he knew he had to follow through on, even if he hadn’t wanted to honor what he’d been_ _**engineered** _ _for._

_He just needed a happy last night together with Tess, since he was literally going off to war in the morning. Michael’d never understood the soldiers who wanted ‘chicks waiting for them’ back at home, but now, confronted with his past and his sense of duty, he knew that he needed this night of escapism to keep going._

_"What?" He tried to brush off her words, hoping that she would drop it even though he knew she wouldn’t._

_"No, don't play dumb with me Michael Guerin. You never cook! We bought this place because of the massive kitchen and the only fucking thing you've made is a lot of orders to Domino's! What the_ **hell** _is going on?" Tess accused as she nervously grabbed at her hair, her insecurities apparent in her delivery._

_She knew him too well -- and if it was any other time he’d be flattered by her attention to detail, or at least amused by her accurate assessment of his cooking habits._

_"Tess," Michael pleaded, knowing full well that he was in the middle of a losing battle with her._

_"Don't Tess me! You're sending me away, that's what this is! You're going to Roswell and you don't want me to go!"_

_Her words stood unanswered for a few moments as he tried to figure out what he could say to her to calm the rage that was building within her. He hadn’t realized what this would do to her -- or that she even felt that he didn’t trust her after what Nicholas had tried to do all those years ago._

_"You know, your silence is really telling, Guerin," Tess spat as she grabbed her keys, heading for the door, her eyes watering as she headed for the exit._

_"What do you want me to say?" Michael bellowed as he chased after her, willing her to at least hear him out._

_"That you want me to come! I'm an alien too, or have you forgotten?" She snapped, turning to face him, her blue eyes blazing as the anger coursed through her veins._

_"Tess, you're not coming to Roswell with me," Michael returned, scowling as she spun on her heal and reached for the door, opening it slightly before slamming it shut, her indignation getting the better of her._

_"Who died and made you king?" Her tone icy as she marched toward him, determined to prove how important she could be to this mission._

_He knew that look, Tess wasn’t going to back down unless he came clean and told her what, exactly, was going on. Kal had warned him that she’d be upset, but he’d never thought that she’d be this angry with him._

_Fuck._

_"It's dangerous! Khivar is in Roswell and he's trying to kill us, now that Max and Liz alerted him to our presence and he tried to reclaim his birthright by using the stupid granolith," Michael explained, as calmly as he could while she glowered at him, her palms flattened against the Formica countertop._

_"What?" She whispered, her anger deflating a bit at his revelation as she slipped her left hand into her hair, processing what he’d said._

_"Kal called -- he said that Max and Liz were fucking around with the granolith because Max wanted to do something special for their anniversary and make her his queen. Since he doesn't know how to use the granolith, he wound up laying claim to his crown and challenging Khivar's rule.”_

_He decided to leave the part about Max calling out. Michael knew that she would look for someone to blame, and as angry as he was with Max, he knew that the person at fault here was Khivar._

_"So, Max started a war... all by accident? Can't he just apologize?" Tess questioned, her voice higher than usual as she choked on a laugh that seemed more like a desperate sob, unable to grasp what, exactly this meant for the both of them._

_"No -- this is what Khivar has wanted to happen all along. It gives him a legitimate reason to go to war with us, since the King of Antar instigated it," Michael replied, taking her hand in his as a few fearful tears slipped down her cheek._

_This was for real, and it would change their lives forever – Tess still bore the scars of what Nicholas had done all those years ago, and he was nothing compared to Khivar, according to Kal. Khivar was out for blood; he’d been training and cultivating his gifts for years while they’d been reveling in their human sides, to their own detriment. Because, funky light shows and unidentified flying objects aside, he would do whatever he could to protect his throne._

_The ironic thing was Max didn’t even want it_.

_"Fuck," Tess whispered, batting at her cheeks, trying to hide her fear behind determination._

_"Tess, I need you to stay behind," Michael pleaded, his eyes meeting hers as the self-loathing rose within him._

_He hated that he had to be the one to do this, especially knowing how much she wanted to help. Out of the four of them, this was_ _**her** _ _fight – the stupid deal, the years she spent on the run – she had more reason to hate Khivar than the rest of them._

_Ripping her hand out from under his, Tess glared at him, hurt by his request. "Michael, I'm the strongest of any of you! You need me! This is about Nicholas isn't it? You don't trust me!"_

_"I trust you, god! I just don't trust myself with you there; I'll be more concerned for your safety than I will be for the mission."_

_"That is such bullshit Michael! I'm the better -- I know what to expect!" Tess returned, furiously pacing from the dining room to the kitchen and back again._

_"I know -- that's why you need to stay here, in hiding. If I die, I need you to come in and end this," Michael admitted as she crumpled into the kitchen chair, distraught over what he’d just said – that death was a real possibility here._

_"Michael, I need you! You can't just leave me!" Tess pleaded, sobs escaping from her throat_

_"Not as much as I need you,” Michael whispered, knowing what Tess really meant was_ don’t die on me. _“You're the only one who is strong enough to do this -- Kal's expecting you."_

_"How much time do we have?" Tess asked finally, clinging to the armrest of her chair, her white fingers revealing how scared she was and that she’d resigned herself to his fate, processing what, exactly, he was saying._

_"My flight leaves early tomorrow," he admitted, bracing himself for her fury at the news that he had planned to leave without telling her until moments before he left, but it never came._

_"I love you," Tess said finally, her red-rimmed eyes scrutinizing him, trying to put everything to memory. He’d seen that look many times before, in class, when a painter was studying an object before immortalizing it on canvas, however it’d never seemed so tragic until he faced her._

_"I know, I love you too," Michael whispered, closing the space between them as he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder as he broke down, the two of them collapsing onto the tile floor, painting each other with their tears._

Stilling his breath as one of the soldiers walked over his broken mass of bones and skins, Michael silently prayed they'd think him dead and move on.

He heard the young kid say something, mangled and nonsensical under the haze of pain and dread and the drumbeat of a hundred men retreating, satisfied that they'd done their job.

Waiting a moment before moving, Michael registered the angry sting of salt licked tears meeting with fresh cuts and the sticky wetness of his blood pooling under him.

_"What are you doing?" he snapped, glaring into his wife's now green eyes, a mirthless gaze reflected back at him. Even though the dread was rising within him, he couldn't help but admire how her auburn hair looked against her gilded skin, the royal blue cotton of her tank top riding up slightly as she leaned against the wall of his makeshift headquarters._

_While Michael would have preferred she look like_ _**Tess** , she was still _ _**his** _ _and that was what mattered._

_One of the soldiers had told him that there was a prisoner in his office -- an_ _**alien**. Max had volunteered to come with him, but he'd refused -- they all thought it was another skin that served as follower of his from Antar and it just wasn't safe for "Zan" to be in harm's way. _

_Never in a million years had he expected to see_ _**her** when he walked through the door. _

_"I know I look different, but normally, Guerin, when your estranged wife, who was forced away by circumstances beyond either of our control, shows up, the appropriate response is 'hi honey, nice to see you. I've missed you. I love you.’ just in case you forgot," Tess returned with a smile, stepping closer to him, and reaching a hand up to cup his cheek, only to have him grasp it and move it away from him._

_He couldn't have her touching him, because the second she did, he'd be begging her to stay. The only way he'd survived the eight months of this war had been to ignore all of his emotions, shut himself off from his family, his friends and her, and focus on the mission at hand._

_"Tess," Michael warned, rolling his eyes as he took a step away from her, trying to appear unaffected by the hurt that was registering on her face. She shouldn't be here -- it wasn't safe, he wasn't safe, and she had a role to play in this war._

_"Well, I've missed you -- and I think we both know that I still love you," she huffed, pursing her lips together as she twirled a strand of hair between her fingers. He knew she was masking fear with female bravado, but he couldn't bring himself to scowl at her._

_"You shouldn't be here," he replied, his response ringing hollow in his ears. God, she was even more beautiful than he remembered and seeing her, alive in front of him brought him so much relief._

_He had missed her, more than she knew._

_"You're in a shitty mood,” she drawled in an attempt to change the subject and mask how much his cold delivery hurt her. Michael could read her, even after months apart and more death and destruction than any man should ever face._

_"I lost thirty men today," he sighed, their deaths heavy on his mind, another thirty names tattooed to his soul, another mark of failure in the face of adversity._

_"Jesus," she breathed, her calm facade gone under the reality of the situation. "I really am sorry Michael."_

_"I know," Michael frowned, clawing at his eyebrow as he forced back the urge to take her in his arms and bury the horrors of the past eight months in her skin. "It's not safe for you here -- we're relying on you and Kal now."_

_It was the first time he'd admitted the reality of the situation -- they were going to lose to Khivar, like a bad sequel to a predictable war movie, resistance really was futile. Max was an inspirationless leader, even when the fight was for humanity. Michael knew that he was more of a teacher than a soldier or a general, and Isabel was too concerned for her children's safety to be the public face of the struggle, like a princess should be._

_Liz had even resigned herself to defeat, spending days hunched over the destiny book looking for any remedy to the conflict instead of supporting every fool handed measure Max brought to the table._

_It wasn't that she didn't love him -- hell, she probably loved him too much, since she was still trying to clean up after Max's mistakes._

_Tess' voice cut through his thoughts, her panicked falsetto highlighting the immediacy of whatever she had to say. "Michael, I need to tell you something..."_

_"What?"_

_"Kal's dead. Michael. The skins finally tracked us down and he died saving my life," she whispered, her voice wavering as the first glimmers of unshed tears showed on her face. It took him a moment to process what she was saying; the war had desensitized him to death and destruction._

_"Are you okay?"_

_The question slipped awkwardly from his lips and it felt, for a moment, that he was unsure he’d said it. He was never good at comforting others, and the war had taken so much from him._

_"Are you?" She deflected, taking a step toward him and extending her hand, slipping it into his when he wasn’t expecting it. Staring at her for a moment in shock, he processed just what she’d done and how_ right _it felt to touch her again._

_"I'm supposed to be the fucking general and I keep losing, Tess. No wonder we all died on Antar -- I'm fighting_ _**fifteen-year-old** _ _soldiers and losing! My men are deserting me, and the sad thing is I can't fucking blame them! We're all going to die. And it's all my fault!"_

_He was screaming now, his voice harsh and angry as a few frustrated tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. Violently swatting them away, Michael scowled at her concerned gaze. She shouldn’t feel bad for him, he was the fucking reason that Kal was dead and they were in this situation._

_"Whoa. Michael -- it's not your fault! You can't possibly be blaming yourself for this! We both know how this all started and it's not like you could have run to the government for help, at the time. I am so proud of you; I can't even begin to tell you."_

_"Stop being my wife for a second, Tess," he snapped, backing away from her, annoyed by her sympathy and her faith in him, when he clearly didn’t deserve it._

_"Excuse me?"_

_"You can't objectively say that I've done a good job here," Michael snapped brushing his sweat-licked hair off of his face._

_"You have," Tess replied, biting down on her lip as if she was debating whether or not to say something. "Look, we've all fucked up and I could tell you a million ways that I think I am a failure in comparison to who I was on Antar, but it'll only help Khivar win."_

_How was she able to say exactly what he needed to hear, whether he wanted to hear it or not? And why did she believe in him when all the evidence proved that he was a failure at this. He was a fucking community college art teacher, and he used to roll his eyes at military recruiters in high school when they targeted him in the trailer park, offering him a better future -- two things that were evident in his failures win battles against Khivar’s army._

_"What are you talking about?" Michael asked, wondering how she was unable to see that Khivar_ _**had** _ _won and they were just borrowing time before he killed them all._

_"Our insecurities -- it's part of what makes us human. But, look -- we're not all going to die, unless we will it. Kal told me some things -- a way to fix all of this. That's why I'm here Michael. I need your help, because what I'm going to do is risky and you're the only person I trust to help me stop this."_

_Tess sounded half crazy, her delivery peppered with desperation and purposeful rhetoric, but somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to ignore her and send her back into hiding yet._

_What the hell could she do to fix this war? Fighting Khivar was a suicide mission, and eventually all of them would die, losing the planet in the process._

_"Stop what?"_

_Tess flashed him a sad smile before walking toward him, her mouth finding his ear as a strand of auburn hair brushed against his cheek. She wrapped an arm around him and stretched her body upward before whispering, "The end of the world.”_

Stirring, Michael clawed at the debris as dread settled in his stomach, his breath growing shorter by the minute.

He was going to fail her -- the blast had been fatal, it was just a matter of time, now, until he was reunited with her and he could see her disappointment firsthand.

Michael knew what he had to do -- he just prayed that Max was able to do what he couldn't.

Snaking his hand underneath him, he painted his fingers red, his muscles tearing under the weight of his movements. A guttural moan escaped from his throat as he began to draw a message in his own blood.

He'd used a number of mediums in his artwork -- watercolors, charcoal, pencils, acrylics, but he'd never felt so close to his work as he did in that moment, scraping his fingers, raw and brittle under his weight against the rubble, trying to leave a message for Max before the inevitable.

_The color drained from his face when he saw copper hair sprawled on the rocks, limbs awkwardly framed by the glistening crimson of fresh blood pooling underneath her body. His knees buckled under his weight and Michael collapsed to the ground, frantically grabbing at her body, trying to shake her into waking._

_This wasn’t happening. Not now. They’d just lost Isabel a week ago; soldiers had staked the place out, thinking that it was close to the granolith. She’d promised to avoid him, avoid this – she was their only hope, and now here she was, a pile of broken limbs._

_"Michael," she breathed, her faint voice breaking him from his panicked thoughts as she choked on her pained sobs as a thin red line trickled down from her mouth._

_"Shh," he pleaded, relieved that they still had time to correct this. He could give her some of his energy; postpone the true impact of the blast, while he went to get Max from their headquarters. "Don't try to move, I'll get Max."_

_"Michael, you have to listen to me, there isn't much time," her voice was strained, the exertion that her panicked delivery was taking on her body evident in her face as her eyes rapidly shifted from side to side, imploring him to listen._

_"What? No, Max can... he can save you," he whispered, his answer more a prayer than anything as he wrapped his arms around her, propping her torso up against his chest, ignoring the slightly blue tint to her bloodstained flesh._

_Elevate the body – slow the blood loss. The extremely rudimentary knowledge of wounds raced through his head as he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest._

_"It's up to you, now. I fucked up – came back too early -- and now you're the one who has to... has to... go back,"_ _she rushed out, her voice cracking as a result of her efforts._

_"Tell Liz; tell her that I told you what's going on, that you’re the one. We've been working on it together -- it's almost ready, another week, maybe,” she continued, her statements jumbled and a bit nonsensical due to the extreme blood loss._

_But Max would come._

_He_ _**had** to. _

_Why the hell wasn’t he here?_

_Fuck – what did she even mean? Tell Liz? The one?_

_Shit._

_She’d just drafted him to take her place as the alien Marty McFly – what the hell did he even know about the granolith? He’d been kept away from it for safety reasons – they all had._

_"I can't. I don't even know what I'm supposed to change, what's supposed to happen," Michael argued, tears biting at the corners of his eyes as her glassy stare lost its focus. "I know less than anyone -- Jesus, I let Isabel **die**!" _

“ _Not your fault. You didn’t. Stop blaming yourself -- we both know who really to blame,” she rasped, her eyelids drooping as her breath grew shorter – there wasn’t much time left._

_He was losing her._

_Just like he lost the war._

_It all came back to that – regardless of her ire at Max Evans, if he had been a better general, then they’d have won. She told him once, after she rejoined him with this mission that she stopped believing in destiny a long time ago – it was one of those things he’d known, but never heard her say – and at the time, he’d felt relieved._

_Now, with her blood marking his skin like a scarlet letter – he would give anything to heed destiny’s warnings years ago. Not the stupid soap opera garbage – but cared more about who he was supposed to be._

_Maybe then he could have at least put up a fucking fight._

“ _Tess, c’mon baby, stay with me, Max will come and save you,” he pleaded, gently brushing a stray hair off her face, unwilling to move her, since she was still breathing, although it was shallow._

_"1988. Los Angeles. You need to focus on that – it's a machine, but it goes where you're thinking about," Tess coughed, her brow knitted together as she struggle to breathe. "You need to go to K...Kal, and tell him **everything**. Michael, you're the only other one who knows where I was going… the only one I trust." _

_"What if he doesn't listen?" It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Kal was Tess’ protector, and only required to listen to her – she could order him to help them, if he decided to ignore their pleas._

_She wouldn’t, but the option was there._

_And that was why he was convinced she was the only one Kal would trust, completely._

_"He will, I have faith," Tess answered, her voice much stronger than he was expecting._

_"Since when?" The question came up without warning, and his jaw dropped after it fell from his mouth._

_He was such an asshole._

_Actually, asshole didn’t begin to cover what he was._

_Why the hell was she smiling?_

_"Leave you to be a smartass when I'm dying," she sputtered, a faint laugh peppering her coughs with an ominous tone. "God it's so cold."_

_This was really happening._

_She was really – there was nothing that – he couldn’t even think, it was like his heart stopped in his chest, her breathing growing shallower by the second  
_

_"Baby, don't…”_

_"I've... I've always had faith in you, Michael," Tess murmured, her body slumping into his, too weak to even sit upright anymore._

_"I know. I know," Michael choked out over his tears, shaking from the impact of his sobs on his body as he gently pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Matted hair brushed against his mouth, brittle and lifeless as he whispered, “I love you.”_

_Her dry hand lay on top of his and she held it tightly as she whispered a barely audible affirmation, "love you."_

_She was gone._

Michael groaned as the sharp sting of skin on skin jerked him into waking. His eyes lolled as a blurry figure came into view. It was hard to focus – pain was overriding every one of his five senses – but he could make out the long, sweat-licked dark hair shining against Max's leather vest.

He couldn't save Tess – but maybe he could save the world.

"Michael, you have to look at me!" Max commanded his panicked voice cutting through the haze and he winced in response.

He finally got it – that feeling of impending doom, the realization that death truly was only seconds away and it simply was too late.

Fuck – he had to get Max to see it.

Max Evans was their only hope – he had to get Evans to understand, as he passed off the message to another -- and he didn't have the same faith Tess had when she'd done the same, that their new savior would do what was asked of him.

"Too late," he wheezed as Max's hands pressed against his back. "Save your strength – you need to listen. Don't have much time."

“God dammit Michael, this isn’t the time to be stubborn!” Max boomed, his warm hands pressed against his flesh, the pressure barely registering as his cells died off by the second.

“I’m dying, you’re too late – always too fucking – talk to Liz, you got about an hour… you need to go back, fix this,” Michael wheezed, imploring him to listen.

He had to listen.

Their lives depended on it.

“What?” Max asked, shock painted on his face. Ever since the war started, he’d only bothered to involve himself in matters that directly concerned him. He’d fight when he wanted – claiming that the camps needed his healing abilities, and while he shrugged it off as he and Kyle fought side by side, he now got why Tess was annoyed.

“Liz knows how to use the granolith – you have to go back, you’re the only one of us left – stop the end of the world,” Michael groaned, weakly attempting to move Max’s hands off of his abdomen. There was no time for this – the die had been cast, and there were things far more important at stake than his life.

“Just look at me! I can’t – fuck, Serena was the one who…”

“D… T…” he grunted angrily, his mouth felt like it’d been coated in cotton, unable to speak. He was drying up – like Tess and Isabel before him, and soon he’d be dust.

“What?”

Shit.

What he’d said – it hadn’t made sense. He had to do something – had to make Max understand. Even Liz didn’t know what was going on – just that the granolith acted on thought.

Max had to read the message he’d left. It wasn’t comprehensive, but it was enough to drive home a point, one that he still didn’t grasp, that he and Tess had been hiding from everyone.

Black spots colored his view as he thrashed against Max’s arms in a desperate attempt to get him to pay attention – he didn’t have much time. Darkness overtook him as Max tried to steady his body, one realization evident.

He was going to fail her, all over again.

_"You sure we have to do this?" Michael asked as she paced the small room that served as quarters, a threadbare towel covering her gilded skin, darkened from the southern California sun and what he was sure was a terrible trek to New Mexico -- it took over thirteen hours by car, and by the look of her, he knew she hadn’t driven most of the way._

_She’d told him what she could about the plan, and his role in it, which was small, given his position within their coterie, and the need to keep everyone at arm’s length, should Khivar’s men get a hold of any of them._

_He was basically supposed to just convince them that she was right while keeping her identity a secret. Another lie to add to the many he’d told them through the years._

_"Michael, the only reason I'm still alive is because they **don't** know who I am. And the thing is, if Max and Isabel think that this is about me trying to save my own ass, they won't be receptive to it," Tess reasoned, her lips pursing as she registered his discontent with her plan. _

_"Why don't you trust them?"_

_"It's not that -- what we're asking, it's going to change **everything**. We're involving Kal way earlier -- I mean, who knows, Max may never meet Liz, Isabel might not wind up with Kyle," Tess explained shifting her weight uncomfortably from side to side as she awkwardly twirled a strand of hair between her fingers._

_"We may not be together," Michael stated, glowering at the prospect of his wife with another man._

_"Guerin, it may be a whole new world, but it's still us,” Tess whispered, her eyes dancing as she brushed a stray piece of hair off his face, the towel slipping slightly as she pressed herself against him. “Look, I gave up on destiny a long time ago, but I do believe that some things, like the two of us, are meant to be -- but do you see what I mean?"_

_"Not really."_

_"If you tell people, 'Tess is back and going to change the past to save the future, oh and your lives may be entirely different', they're going to resent it. That's why we need to make this about the four-square -- that I'm some outside force.”_

_"I hate lying to them," Michael sighed, conceding that she had a point._

_"God, this whole thing is so fucked up. I can't believe we're not even going to tell Max what he **did** ," Tess shot back, angrily retrieving clothing from her backpack and throwing a green t-shirt over her naked body. It was strange, seeing her this angry and cold, knowing that she’d been so soft in his arms only moments before as they buried their sins in each other’s skin, trying to find solace in one another, if only for a while._

_"What's the good in that? We need him to agree with us, and that means Max has to be blameless," Michael reasoned, hating that their attempt to save them all would feed into Max’s stupid theory that he was the one who pushed Tess away, since she was too fragile to understand Max and Liz’s relationship._

_All this crap about the four-square being stronger together, working as a unit, and that Tess’ departure somehow weakened them all was bullshit. She was letting herself take the fall for things that were far beyond her control, when both of them knew that she was the strongest of **any** of them. _

_"I know, it just sucks,” Tess huffed, slipping into her jeans, her icy veneer in place as she waved her hair dry. “I mean, I have to look Liz Parker in the eye, knowing that by changing the future she may_ _**die** _ _at sixteen because Max might not be there to save her!”_

“ _Fuck. You can’t -- there won’t be any casualties,” Michael ordered, forcing back the guilt that was rising within him. He trusted her implicitly, but he only knew the bare outline of what she planned to do -- go back in time to stop this future from happening. Kal had a major role to play, but she wouldn’t say what it was._

 _She thought it was safer that way. And while she was probably right, he hated not knowing, especially since her explanation was sounding a lot less like_ Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure _and more like that Simpsons’ episode where Homer traveled back in time only to fuck up everything even worse._

_It was his faith in her and the fact that they really were at their last resort that he was even going along with her plan._

“ _Look, these are all things that I’m going to talk to Kal about -- but I mean, I don’t know everything, either. We’re relying on him to do things when he might not be receptive to it,” Tess explained, her voice betraying the conviction in her stance._

“ _I mean, I believe in him, and I’ll be there to steer him in the right direction, but I... never mind, this is dumb,” she exhaled, flashing him a smile as she stopped pacing. “I’m going to go back in time and fix everything, and who knows? Maybe I’ll be pregnant and you’ll be feeding me gross things like I don’t know, pickled eggs instead of fighting a war at thirty.”_

_Kids? She was talking about kids now? It was the elephant in the room when they’d gotten together after their reunion in Washington, DC. Between the wedding, her desire to change fields and move closer to Kal and his promotion to assistant department head after only two years, it’d never been the right time for them._

_They’d moved into that house outside San Diego six months before the war started with the hope of finally having children, but after he’d left, he’d never been so grateful to know that they hadn’t conceived, yet._

_"No one knows you found me, right?" She asked, breaking him from his thoughts, her strange emerald eyes, which seemed more familiar than they should, boring into his flesh._

_"No -- Isabel might have an idea, but looking like you do, she's not going to figure it out," Michael replied, never entirely sure whether or not Isabel was invading his dreams when he wasn’t aware of it._

_"Okay, good. That's so weird, being relieved about something so terrible,” she returned, her nervous laughter reverberating around the office as she slid her bottom lip between her teeth._

_"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, watching her drum her fingers against her other arm one after another._

_"Yeah, I'll be fine, I just need to focus on this, because if I don't then I'm going to think about Kal and everything else that happened and I can't do that right now."_

_Translation: she was_ _**not** _ _ok._

_"Te..."_

_"Michael," Tess interjected, frowning at his Freudian slip – there was no time for error, and he was finding this detail much more difficult than he’d thought. "We need to be on the same page -- and that starts now."_

_"I hate this,” he grumbled, staring at her for a moment before adding, “Almost as much as I hate your red hair."_

_"Michael."_

_"I like your hair blonde," he admitted with a shrug, deciding not to tell her all that he hated about her plan, knowing that it was truly the only solution left for them._

_"And I like yours maintained – looks like we're both not getting what we want!" Tess huffed, a playful smirk plastered on her face. He knew that she was putting on a show for him, trying to seem blasé in the face of so much pain, and while his conscious told him to ask her about it, he needed this momentary escapism as much as she did._

_"I just like you, the real you -- including your hair color," Michael stated, drawing her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her._

_"I know," Tess murmured, leaning into him as she gently pressed her lips against his before pulling away, the corners of her mouth turning upward in a shy smile, disappearing almost as quickly as it came, the tender moment gone._

_"So let's go over this again?"_

_"You know this is going to just convince Evans that it's his fault you went away," Michael grumbled, scratching his eyebrow, trying to delay his foray into Tess’ re-imagined history. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her – it was that after they told Max, Isabel, Liz and Kyle this, the last ties to his old life would be cut, making this really all he had left._

_"I don't care – he's not the one going back – I am," Tess shot back, annoyed at the mention of Max’s guilt over her disappearance from Roswell, fourteen years ago. "Ok, what’s my story?"_

_"You're the only daughter of our protector, Kal Langley, who died trying to save all of our lives when he faced Khivar alone moments after he landed. You've spent your adult life searching for Tess because the united four square is the only way to defeat Khivar -- our gifts compliment each other and we make a complete fighting unit. But since Tess is dead, there's only one option -- time travel, because it's only a matter of time until we're all destroyed. Our soldiers are deserting by the week, and the army keeps killing us off," Michael sighed, watching as she nodded her head emphatically to everything he said._

_"Okay, and how do you know this will work?"_

_"Because Kal taught you everything you know about the granolith. He said this was a last resort, and frankly, we only have two options -- try this or die."_

_"How can you trust me?"_

_"You're my wife!" He shouted possessively, glaring at her for even asking the question, despite knowing that she was acting like the others would, when they told them their plans._

_"Improvising?" Tess shot back, a wry grin on her face._

_He knew that look – she was turned on. How fucking wrong was this?_

_And why didn’t he care that much?_

_"I've let you run the show, you're not denying this," he growled, fingering his wedding band as she leaned suggestively against his makeshift desk._

_"You're hot when you're pissed," Tess drawled, brushing a strand of red hair off her face. "Ok, caveman, you’re right, I’d never deny_ _**tha** _ _**t** \-- you’re still the Tarzan to my Jane." She grinned, her eyes darkening as she looked pointedly at his jeans._

_Yeah, there was no doubt what they’d be doing later._

_"Good," Michael grunted, trying to ignore the image of her in a loincloth and how many ways he could take it off of her._

_King of the Jungle indeed._

_"And what's my name?" Tess asked, getting back to the matter at hand._

_"Tess.”_

_"Michael, seriously," Tess snapped, her arms akimbo as she made her annoyance known. She was nervous now, he could read her facial expressions, and this was becoming real to her for the first time as well._

_"Mrs. Guerin,” Michael returned with a smirk, only to be greeted with a frown and a raised eyebrow. She was really going to make him do it – acknowledge this stupid name Langley had given her years ago as legitimate – the last fucking thing that was_ _**theirs** _ _destroyed._

_Sure, she’d agreed to still, publicly, be his wife, but it wouldn’t be the same – at least before he wasn’t lying to his friends, he’d just never said anything – now he was laying Tess Harding to rest._

_She’d already done it – it was more than the hair and the contacts – nothing overt, but it was the way that she committed herself fully to the mission, head over heart. Though he’d never ask her, he knew that if he’d refused to help her she’d have gone it alone, never bothering to dwell on his refusal._

_It was a departure from who she’d been before – someone who was a victim of feeling too much that she was unsure she could make a contribution. Now, she was all about the mission, saving the day, closing herself off from distractions – winning was the only solution._

_Exhaling, he answered her, driving home the final nail in the proverbial coffin, "Serena.”_

“Fuck, Michael, don’t!” Max screamed, violently shaking him into waking. “I’ll do it, go back in time – just don’t die on me. I need you.”

Maybe he still had a chance to tell him.

Opening his eyes slightly, Michael grunted in response, his arms felt like dead weights, too heavy to move.

Fuck he had to do something.

“Talk to me!” Max implored him, looking far younger than his thirty years – almost as if he were a petulant child and not a man who’d seen more death and destruction than most.

Shaking his head no, he watched Max’s face fall, defeated, realizing that Michael truly couldn’t speak to him.

“Shit, Michael, I tried to – my powers, they wouldn’t work, you were right,” Max whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of his face as his dark eyes stared at him, despondent. “I’m so sorry.”

This couldn’t turn into a pity party for his impending death. Grunting, he emphatically pointed at the message he’d written Max, only to see it covered in dirt and footprints.

Max’s footprints.

Hopefully he could still make it out.

He needed to read it. He needed to understand who she was, what her role was in this mess.

Letting out a silent plea, he watched Max turn around to face the blood-etched message, hoping that somehow he could still make it out.

“Tess is S…” Max read, his brow furrowing as he tried to make out the rest of it. “Michael, I can’t… jesus, you wrote this in your blood?”

“Never mind, I can’t. Tess is special?” Max asked, staring past him, ignoring the violent sway of his head from side to side.

He needed to see. He needed to know that Serena was Tess’ alias, and because of that Kal was an important part of the story – not an afterthought.

“I know Tess is special. You guys all told me that -- you were going back to save Tess, keep her in Roswell. We’re stronger when we’re together! We need the four-square,” Max breathed, filled with purpose.

Michael knew that look.

It meant that Max Evans was in his own world, filling it with thoughts of how he was going to be the savior.

Opening his mouth to call out, to draw attention to Max’s inability to realize the truth, he was met with nothing. His vocal chords had collapsed, probably not long after his throat dried out, rendering him dumb and ignored in the wake of his newfound derring-do.

“I was a real bastard to her after Liz and I slept together – she was going through something, you could just see her looking so sad, and then she up and left after we went to Arizona,” Max rambled. “I know, I’ll go back, tell Liz that we shouldn’t have sex – that she needs to break up with me so that Tess doesn’t leave. I know that you two were close, but she was so obsessed with me that she couldn’t stand to be in town after Liz and I got back together.

“Plus, you marry Serena, and you won’t waste ten years chasing Tess down for nothing, anyway,” Max finished, a prideful grin on his face.

Banging his fist against the dirt, angry, frustrated tears escaped from his eyes as Max got up from his seat next to him. He wasn’t listening – and Max Evans had just figured out what time he was going to be returning to, and it wasn’t Los Angeles in 1988.

He had failed them all.

And Tess was going to suffer, all because of him.

His eyes watched as Max’s footprints covered the **is S** , leaving only **Tess** in his wake – a final reminder of the girl he’d loved and the woman she’d never grow up to be, because he hadn’t been willing to abandon his army in that last week, thinking it was his duty.

Destiny had taken another victim, and the four of them would suffer the consequences.

Sobbing, he willed himself to die, the weight of his failures and the innocent victims they’d claimed too much for his soul. Sliding his eyes shut, his last image was of a bright light shooting off into the night sky, fifty feet away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is my baby and still one of my favorites, years later. I hope you enjoyed it! :)


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